One More Time
by Rihaan
Summary: She had all the time in the world, and she used it on everyone else. And what did it cost her in the end? Everything she ever wanted. She went through hell, and back, to lose it all. No More. It was time to make another choice. Her life was going to be exactly what she wanted it to be. Super Max to the rescue; One More Time. Unequivocally Pricefield.
1. Prologue

**Summary:** She had all the time in the world, and she used it on everyone else. And what did it cost her in the end? Almost everything she ever wanted. She went through hell, and back, to make the hardest decision of every life she had lived so far.  
No More. She had to go back again, she _needed_ to. Her life was going to go exactly the way she wanted it to. Super Max to the rescue. One More Time.

 **Special Note:** Dedicated to my mother, who was recently diagnosed with Dementia. Not a sad story, I promise.

The video game 'Life is Strange' is one of the most powerful stories I've ever seen in the visual medium. If you haven't played the game/interactive movie (which does it far better than TellTale Games), please purchase the game, and enjoy the ride. I put some very deep cuts into this story, and I hope some people get the references I snuck in.

Now, please enjoy One More Time, a tribute to Dontnod Entertainment and Square Enix's Life is Strange.

 **Prologue**

 _Major Choices and Resulting Outcomes have been woven into the story, from beginning to end. Just know that Max made all the right choices in the end. And even then, those actions still had consequences…_

* * *

It was when her lips were pressed against her best friend's, her _everything_ , did she realize, and maybe for the first time – a photo was a moment captured in time. But dreams could create an entirely new reality, maybe even an infinite moment.

And right then – at that very second, if she didn't capture this dream, imprint it in her mind forever, then the nightmares would rule her world until she died.

Her heart pounded angrily, and she was sure it had nothing to do with the storm. Still, she couldn't even _feel_ Chloe's lips on her own, she couldn't register the raindrops on her, and the cyclone whipping ahead of them was just a distant sound.

This was a moment in time she wanted to remember. This was what she had wanted. Just her, and Chloe. As she had wanted for almost a week now. Something that she had maybe yearned for her whole life.

And what she'll never get to have again.

And while it was their choice, it wasn't a fair one. That's what this was, right? Goodbye? They couldn't say the words – she could never be so direct, and even Chloe was stumbling over her words.

Max knew she was worth something, to Chloe at least. Only she could make the blue-haired girl speechless. She gently rubbed her fingertips across the soaking girl's neck, desperate for friction, desperate to feel again.

She needed to feel Chloe's skin again, before she killed her. _Again_.

She honestly couldn't tell her tears apart from the rain, and she wasn't about to parse it out. It was the end of the world, and there was nothing else that mattered but her and her girl. Her sidekick. Her pirate partner in crime.

And Fate _literally_ wanted to take her away.

Fate couldn't be that cruel; could it?

Did she _care_ about what Fate, or _Destiny_ , wanted for her?

"No."

Chloe opened her eyes and broke the kiss. She looked carefully at her best friend. "Max?"

"It just can't end like this, Chloe. It can't. I won't let it."

"I..." she looked out at the chaotic whirlwind that was approaching their small ocean side town. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

"You just said that I'm the only one who can make that choice." Her eyes were intense, and they never looked so dangerous. "I want to choose. Everything else, I feel like it's been out of my hands. I _needed_ to help those people. I _needed_ to help Kate, I _had_ to help Alyssa. I couldn't even watch a fucking bluebird hit your window! I've been helping so many people. I've saved lives, Chloe..."

"Including mine," she whispered, her eyes shining, and it wasn't from the rain. "And I _love you_ , Max. I would've never gotten the chance to say that if you didn't save me. And that's all I needed."

"And all I need," Max leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the punk teen, "is to keep hearing you say that. Forever."

Chloe's hands tightened around the slightly shorter girl's waist. "I'll always love you, Max. Whatever you choose."

The photo was now crumpled in her hand, and it became even further mangled at her friend's words. "Do you believe in destiny, Chloe?"

"Until it stopped working in our favor? Yeah."

"Do you believe... do you think I can change it?"

"I think you have to, Max. It's literally you and me versus Destiny." She sniffed. "And if we let all those people die, I don't think that's a point for us."

"Would you? If this was my life on the line?"

Chloe considered, for a brief moment, feigning ignorance to the question, if only to stall. But she knew what the answer would be. "You have so much to be grateful for, Max. I have my mom, and even my step... my step dad in my corner, but all I have left is... is you. You are all I really, truly have. I _could_ live without them. I'm beyond caring. But you'd be tearing yourself apart into insanity if all those lives were sacrificed for you. You would have so much to live for. So many people in your life. And even then, you'd be begging me to make the right choice."

Max closed her eyes. The 'right' choice. "No. I'd miss Warren. I'd miss Kate. A part of me would even miss Victoria Chase. But even in that reality, I'd go to hell and back for you. I can't save everyone." She glanced behind her, and turned to face the desolated town, in the middle of the storm. "And I tried. But if I had to choose...if I'm being _made_ to choose. I'm choosing me."

She could hear the ripping sounds the storm made. "You hear that?" She separated, her hands lingering on Chloe's hips, and turned fully towards the apocalypse. "This is what you wanted! A choice! A time to speak up for myself! To think about _me_ for once! To make me save Kate's life! To watch you play cruel games with Alyssa! To make me watch, again, and _again_ , those stupid _fucking_ lessons he gave us! Making me relive his premonitions of putting me in his _Dark Goddamn Room_! That wasn't _me_! That was all _you_! That was your choice!" Her words were fierce, even fiercer as she saw cars flying into the water from a distance. "And _what_?! _What_ did I do to deserve it?! You give me the power to play God, and I didn't have a choice from the _beginning_ , did I? Well, now I do. _Me_. I want to be happy! And if the world has to burn to the ground because I want to have one _fucking_ selfless moment..."

Her voice broke at the end. She couldn't finish. She just couldn't.

"Then I choose to be happy," she finally whispered, looking back at the girl she couldn't sacrifice. The girl that she would never lose again. "If the whole point of all this was to do nothing... then that's what I'll do."

Chloe watched the soaking, balled up photo fall to the wet ground with a resigned stare. After a few seconds, she filled Max's empty hand with her own, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

And the two best friends watched as Arcadia Bay swept into the storm.

A moment captured in time. She didn't need a photo for that.

And that's when the thought came to her.

* * *

Search for [Pricefield Edited Ending] on YouTube. That was the ending I was replicating, in a way.

Please review, thanks for reading, and check me out on Patr/e/on (slash) Rihaan.


	2. Never Outta Time

**Author's Note:** One Patron so far. Join me on my path to five!

* * *

Maxine eyed the canvas with a glimmer of hope.

This _could_ be the solution.

Her hand traced the edges of a blue-winged butterfly, smiling fondly. "It has to be."

Chloe, standing behind her, still looked dubious. "Are you sure, Max? You've only been able to do that thing on photos, so you tell me."

She shook her head. "Not photos, Chloe. Memories."

The house, as expected, was destroyed. It was still recognizable, but certainly not habitable.

As was the rest of Arcadia Bay. Recognizable, but not habitable.

As morbid as the thought was, the first thing that came through her mind as Chloe drove through the town was that the Dark Room may be the only place left completely intact.

She shuddered, and shook her head. At least this made it. The evidence board. Removing the tape and pushpins, it was one of Chloe's most cherished artifacts - the drawing board.

"So you really think you can use it," Chloe wondered, having her reservations, but even she had to smile at the drawing they had done.

Her and Max, walking along the beach - more floating, really - hand in hand, into the sunset, that also had a rainbow. It was cluttered with a bunch of other things, including a typical palm tree-covered island, but she marveled at the focus of their painting; her happy ending the two had drawn a decade ago, almost like an omen.

And Max could see them painting the canvas like it was still happening, her hands gliding over the board triggering echoes of girlish laughter in her mind. This _had_ to be it. "I'm positive. Doubtful?"

Chloe shook her head, crossing her arms. "No. Fucking _terrified_. You have no idea how much I'd panic if I see so much as a nosebleed from you again. I don't want to see reality rip apart, Max. But if you're saying we can save everyone..."

"This has to work, Chloe. I had to have been given these powers for a _reason_. It can't all have been a stupid lesson on love and sacrifice."

It was left unsaid by the both of them, that it was more a matter of love _or_ sacrifice.

The punk girl kneeled down next her girlfriend. "Babe, I believe you. You know I do. But I also really think that my life's not so certain if you go into the past. I know it's a burden on you... making that choice. But I also have to live with the fact that it should be _me_ , instead of everyone else." Her hands tightened on the brunette's shoulder. "The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that it's a choice you made, and you chose me to comfort you. You did this for me. And nothing would make me happier than to be here for you. We're all that we have."

She leaned into Chloe's hand. "Yeah. We are. And I still wouldn't change a thing. But if I could..."

"What?"

"Rachel could be here. With us. And your mom. And your dad. And _everyone_."

She leaned her head on Max's. "Rachel would have loved you. If she wasn't so hooked on Frank, she might've... _we_ might've..." she shook her head. "It probably would've ended bad, anyway. You're a hard one to get over, Max."

She felt a warmness inside that she hadn't felt since their first kiss, the dare that seemed so long ago. "Since when?"

It was so quiet, that Chloe almost couldn't hear her. "I never really understood why you said that thing. Until you told me last night. That day my dad walked out for the last time, you told me to be strong; that I would never be abandoned, that you were always there for me. And even before I thought you had those powers, I thought of you as my guardian angel. All the shit I've been through. I had to hold on to something. Told myself it could've been worse. Part of me thought you sent me Rachel. And even then, I thought 'Goddamn, I wish Max was here. If only to give me her blessing.'" She placed a kiss on the side of Max's resting head. "But when you practically tried to form a blood bond with me that day, I developed a crush in a major way."

The brunette smiled through her unshed tears, remembering her impassioned speech she tried to get through to an utterly confused younger Chloe. "It was a dick move, though, knowing that my parents were gonna move me soon, and I'm automagically skipping through those years."

"That's another problem," Chloe remembered. "Even if you use this painting, what's stopping you from jumping forward again, with no control of what happened after five minutes?"

"I think I've figured it out." She stared at the butterfly. "I don't think I could do it again. I think, if this works, it stops. This has to be the end of it."

"I don't think real life works like that, Max."

"Better than the apocalypse starting because I want you alive. It's how the powers started. It's a fitting ending. The Butterfly Effect."

"In my honest opinion, that kinda looks more like a moth."

She tapped her best friend on the back of her blue-haired head. "Thanks for the vote."

Chloe chuckled. "You know I've got your back, and my offer still stands. Whatever _you_ choose. I just hope I'm still here, or there, or wherever you land. I just wish that I could remember this. All of it. This journey."

"It'll feel like I'm losing you all over again."

"Yeah," she quietly admitted, "b-but you'll get me back pretty quickly. Really, if you could Skype me anytime in those five years, you really just have to ask for it. I practically could've been a booty call for you."

"It's the _asking_ part I'm scared of."

"Come on, you know I've never had a serious boyfriend, nor did we ever talk about boys much. These past five years have been a mess, but I never even considered... you know, getting a cheaper deal from Frank like Rachel did, or ... do I really have to spell it out for you?" She then waggled her eyebrows. "Come to think of it, how come we never talked about boys much?"

"We _did_ talk about boys. It just never went beyond how stupid they were. It wasn't until Warren when I found out that no matter how smart, or great they are... it just wasn't gonna happen with us. I loved him like a brother, but something kept telling me that he should be more than that. He _really_ should've. But I could never tell him that, 'til I told myself why he never could." She let out a low sigh. "Too late for that. He doesn't even remember the hug I gave him."

Chloe looked downcast. "And I won't remember anything."

Max wrapped her arm around her girl. "So there will be new memories. Better memories. No hiatus, I promise."

"And you really think you can do all of that? Relive your childhood, grade school... girl things... all over again?"

"You love me, right?"

Chloe couldn't help but smirk. "Always will. Always have."

"And that's what I'm banking on."

"And hey, look... if you can't save my dad, I understand, okay? Don't overdo it, if you still have your power."

"Only if I have no other options."

"And I doubt I'll ever know Rachel, either."

"I know." Chloe didn't know who she was in the alternate timeline, even when she went missing again. "But I'll still try something. The Prescotts and Jefferson are going down. And Kate... well, I'll see what I can about Kate. She took the bullying harder than everyone else, but the whole school is fucked. No Prescotts means no Vortex Club."

"But it could also mean no Academy. Not if their biggest backer is in jail."

"Even with seized assets that go to the city?"

"Devious. I knew there was a reason you're in school."

"Another reason to go back. If I'm stuck with a life of mediocrity, I need a roommate."

Chloe tilted her head. "You're lucky you're you, Maxine. Only you could make me look forward to my new life sentence."

"For my sake, I hope you never change."

"I hella hope so."

* * *

Memories - unwritten, unarchived, unreliable moments in time. Memories fade away every day, with every second, every time a stronger memory makes an imprint in your mind. And Max Caulfield had been through a hell of an adventure.

So why could she remember drawing every single part of that board with Chloe, laughing, smiling with her, sharing happiness together?

 _Chloe was happy_. That's why she remembered.

"I've been selfish," Chloe admitted, an arm draped over her pondering girlfriend. "I don't want to let you go. And you're going to fall in love with another me, and I won't be able to remember it. I can't cherish that. I'll just be... gone."

Max held her tighter to herself, pressing her lips to the older girl's exposed neck. She was still asleep. So Chloe kept talking.

"You'll fall for a better Chloe. An untainted Chloe. One that didn't piss away everything she had, bitching about everything she lost. And while part of me wants to blame you for leaving, it's easier to blame everything and everyone else. Joyce for not walking. The other driver. Some part of me even blames William. And I don't even know what to blame him for. That's how fucked up I am. I have so much baggage, and you'd still give _everything_ up for me." She sniffed. "You're going to rock little undamaged Chloe's world.

"I just hope I'm worth it."

"You are," Max whispered, and once again, Chloe was rendered speechless. That happened a lot around Max. That happened _only_ around Max. "You always have been. You're worth everything to me, Chloe. I won't lose you. Whatever version of you I have, I can't lose that again. At least you had a reason to be depressed. I just have teenage angst. I couldn't even tell you what loss felt like. William was like a father to me, but I could never truly feel the brunt of it. I never could lash out. I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. For five years. 'She needs her space,' I tried to say. 'What the hell could I say to her to make her feel better?' 'The last thing I ever want to hear is an angry Chloe. That would break me. What kind of fool would I be, calling her now? I wasn't there for her then. Why would she let me back in her life?'"

"I would have never pushed you away, Max."

But she almost did, one week ago.

"And now I know. And that'll make a difference."

"...What if it doesn't?" She ducked her head and kissed her before she could protest. "Hear me out. Please. I get it. This could be the last time. But what if all of this - all of Arcadia, the storm - what if it happens again? What if, in any reality, that storm follows me everywhere? What if, if you stayed here, with _this_ me, Los Angeles goes through the worst earthquake it's ever gone through, and the second I fall through a fault line, everything's back to normal?"

Max didn't even pause. "Then it'd be a more literal definition of going through hell for you."

Chloe wrapped her arms around her friend's bare torso. "Don't fucking talk like that, Max."

She looked into the older girl's eyes, reaching up to slip the blue strands behind her ear. "I want you alive, Chloe, and we're both going to have to live with that."

"Oh my God," Chloe whispered, craning her head to kiss her palm. "You've fucking lost everything for me, Max. I could never win an argument against you, ever."

"Welcome to your new hell, babe."

"And I guess we can never have a post-coital talk about how you owe me one."

Max, in her ever-reaching knowledge, kissed her girlfriend again, and slowly slipped under the sheets.

Powers be damned, she made sure Chloe knew just how generous she liked to be.

* * *

"... You know... you're going to hear this a lot. Hopefully, from me. And whatever shit I try to pull, I hope you set me straight. And if shit goes awry again, because I somehow fuck it up, or we fuck up together, know this; you're my fucking angel, Max. Even without powers, you saved my life in so many ways, in so many metaphors. I want you to be by my side, forever. But more than that, I want someone who thinks they're good enough for you. Because I just can't see it. I love you, Maxine Caulfield. But the old me loves you so much more. And this one's just too damaged to not worry about what's around the corner, or too haunted by what we just got ahead of.

"So... I guess I'm saying this is goodbye. Goodbye, Maxine. Get me, get famous, and get the fuck out of Arcadia Bay. For us."

* * *

"Max? You okay? You spaced out there for a second."

Max laughed to cover up her tears, and smeared paint on her cheeks from her messy fingers. "I'm just surprised you know how to draw a butterfly so well. We just drew 'V's to make the birds."

The strawberry-blonde looked loosely at the still-wet rendition of the blue creature, and used her black-covered fingernails to smear in antennae. "Huh. I was going for Moth. I've got work to do."

Max smiled. "We'll work on it."

"Good. Because you're the artist, here. Can't wait to see how the deer turns out."

"Doe."

"Okay, Maxer Splatter, now you're just messing with my head."

"You have _no_ idea, Chloe."

"Max, Chloe, dinner's ready!"

"Just a little more time, dad! We're almost done with the canvas!"

"It's not going anywhere! Actually... you know what? Bring it down here! Your mother and I would like to see what you've done so far!"

"Bill! Are you serious? I _just_ vacuumed!"

" _Just don_ _'_ _t spill anything on the carpet!_ That better, honey?"

"We'll let it dry first!" Chloe promised, beaming with pride. "Come on, Abstract Max, let's move this thing!"

In the moment she turned away to pick up one side, Max gently ran her finger under her own pre-pubescent nose.

Good. No blood. No tears in space. No double moons. No dream sequence. No cyclone. No jump-aheads.

It worked. It totally worked, and there were going to be no flash-forwards this long stretch.

Super Max fucking Caulfield to the rescue. For the final time.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Chapter Two available on Patr/e/on. Please Review, donation or not. Really, I appreciate both, but reviews are really great, too.


	3. Just Another Day, Remastered

**Author's Note:** To all the Harry Potter fans - I'm sorry. But this pairing is so much more fun to write than Harmony. So much more to work with. I'll get back to Harmony - real soon - but for now, this is for the Pricefield fans.

* * *

Chloe's toothy smile was subdued, and even that threatened to break little Max's little heart. "Alright, spill. What's up? You were acting pretty weird at dinner. You didn't even try to feed Bongo. I had to double up. What's wrong?"

Max shook her head, resting her hand on her temple. She'd read about this once - her mind getting acclimated to her new body, being in it so long. The adjustments were being made. She hoped. It could be in the process of violently rejecting her, or taking away her old memories forever, but she was more on the optimistic side. "Sorry, just... headache. I'm trying to remember what happened. It's kinda fuzzy right now."

"You need a doctor?" Chloe slipped out of her bed, and crossed the room to hers. "I can't have you getting sick on me, Max. This is our first sleepover! Your parents will never let you come over again!"

She winced in mid-chuckle. "My parents love your parents. It's not your fault. Maybe it was the paint fumes?"

She slipped onto the bed, and sat over her friend's covered stomach. "We've been working on it all day, and a lot of days before that. And it's not even in this room. Don't make me tickle the truth out of you, Maxine."

Just yesterday, Max was in this same position with Chloe. And _this_ was a Chloe that was going take a _lot_ of getting used to. At least the hormones were still there - mentally, at least. "You trust me, Chloe?"

The girl's eyes were curious, but they were the same piercing blue she was determined to keep so bright and full of adventure. "Of course, Max. Where did you bury the body?"

"I'll tell you later tonight."

"You better, dude. I don't like being teased."

When the strawberry blonde leaned down and rested her crossed arms against the younger girl's chest, in only her undershirt and panties, Max Caulfield could say the same thing. Wisely, she didn't. "I'll wait. You've got a lot of splainin' to do, Maxy."

Naturally, this would have normally lead to Max blushing embarrassingly and pushing the girl off, and the two having a long, goofy laugh.

Instead, this time around, she took on the challenge with open arms. In case of apocalypse, don't look away from those blue eyes for a second.

It wasn't so much a staring contest - though the other smirked when one blinked - but it was a fierce _looking_ contest. Two sets of blue eyes unflinchingly matched each other in intensity, and even though Chloe was the one on top, she felt herself whimper after several minutes.

Max felt a little adventurous. Time to play the rebel. "You trying to send me a message, Chloe?"

"Nope. Just waitin' for yours, Max."

"I could tell you on the other bed."

"Not comfy enough on this one, my little doe?"

"No. I'm exactly where I need to be. A Doe, Chloe?"

"You're so freakin' innocent, you got big doe eyes. It's cute, in a creepy way."

She smirked. "Innocent, huh? Miss 'I drew a butterfly today' Price? You're the one staring into my pretty, doe eyes."

Chloe blinked. "Actually, I didn't notice if they were pretty or not. But now that you mention it..."

And the staring began again.

This time, it wasn't as fierce a battle, for when Max was armed with the knowledge of her 'innocence', she used it to her advantage.

"Holy crap," Chloe laughed, almost rolling off the bed when Max's eyes suddenly opened wide while she bit her lower lip. "I didn't think you'd go full doe-eyed! You're hardcore!"

She rolled her eyes. "I've never seen blue doe eyes. And if we were going for an awkward contest, I'm pretty sure I won."

"This round, Caulfield. You owe me a rematch."

She scooted out of her covers to press her back against the headboard. "So, you sure you want to know?"

The older girl quickly sat next to her. "Spill. Whatcha thinkin'?"

She smiled at her general exuberance. "I had a dream."

"What about? Come on, dude, spare no details! Was I in it?"

"Of course you were, Chloe."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Didn't know you thought so much about me."

"Oh, shut up," she gave her a playful shove, and even with her advanced mind, she blushed, as her young self would have done. "You were the one about to fall asleep on me, staring into my eyes like that."

"And miss the chance to see you drool? No way!" She leaned against her friend's shoulder. "So what was it about?"

Max gave a light shrug. "The end of the world."

Chloe lifted her head and blinked rapidly at the calm girl. "Wow. You dream big."

"Well," she slowly admitted, "it's not really the end of the world. More like the end of Arcadia."

"Horsemen? Great flood? City swallowed whole?"

"Giant storm."

"Dream's getting real small, Max."

"Yeah. But you still want to know more, right?"

"..." She crossed her arms, and Max felt like this was, technically, the very first time she rendered the girl speechless.

"It was you and me, fighting evil," she continued, and Chloe perked up. "It started with a kidnapping, then a murder, then a drug dealer, then an evil teacher. And we kicked major butt."

"Evil teacher; no surprise, there. Us kicking butt together? Tell me something I didn't know, Super Max." Even without her alternate memories, Chloe sat with a satisfied grin, smug in her accomplishments. "So what made you so spaced out during dinner?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"I'm older than you, Max."

"And yet, still not old enough. Go figure."

She wasn't expecting a swift pillow to the face, but that's what she got. And it was on.

She knew she couldn't tell Chloe everything. In fact, she was relatively sure she shouldn't have said anything.

But she also knew that trying to keep this big a secret from her best friend, for the rest of her life, was going to destroy her. And she wasn't so good at keeping her lies straight. So, half-truths. For now. She had a very long time to figure it out.

But, for the moment, Chloe had pulled a declaration of war, and it was time for retaliation. And that was the only problem she could handle right now. A wonderful change of pace.

* * *

If there was anything that she learned from messing with her past, present, and future, it was planning. Long-cons and careful planning, that's what she had to do.

She and Chloe were tight, as they should be. Their relationship, in her opinion, was even stronger this time around. They hung out more, they talked more, Chloe didn't hesitate to ask for more sleepovers, and she definitely fell asleep faster as they cuddled, watching the movie of the night.

And that did happen, Max clearly remembered. It happened often. And every time, she woke up alone, and Chloe was back in her bed. Less awkward, they both silently agreed, once upon a time. It was only in the worst-slash-best week of her life that they actually had the chance to wake up in each other's arms, and the bitter-sweetest days that followed.

So when she felt strawberry blond hairs tickle her nose that very morning, her only regret was that it wasn't combined with the rich blue she was familiar with.

And maybe that was what she used to mainly separate the two. One was her soulmate; a girl she'd embrace an eternal nightmare for. Chloe Price, the punk girl with tattoos and piercings in strategic places, and a love for baking after waking, a penchant for danger and adventure, who rebelled against the world and almost suffered the ultimate consequence for it, who never thought twice of sacrificing herself - _twice_ \- for the sake of the people who cared about her, and even the people who didn't.

That Chloe was, days after they were back in each other's lives, her _lover_. And perhaps it was their fault for opening Max up to that possibility, only to have to wait another decade for that potential conversation. But when faced with the likelihood of not seeing _that_ Chloe ever again, Max desperately wanted her first time to be the girl that was - in her mind - always meant to be.

This Chloe, for all the potential she had for at least the best traits of the woman she loved, was still just a little girl, and would never turn into the Chloe of before. And still, Max's equally little form couldn't tell the fucking difference, and it was ripping through her like a cyclone. She could only imagine how hellish puberty would be.

She loved this girl, and she couldn't know, for now. She could only hope that the OG was right, and they didn't have to go through a week of really close calls and a savagely broken heart of another crush to notice what was in front of her.

 _"_ _She didn_ _'_ _t even tell me,_ _"_ _Chloe tried to explain, giving clarification to Max, who didn_ _'_ _t ask for it, but was overwhelmingly curious about._ _"_ _Frank was an acquaintance, and maybe before we tried to shoot him, a friend. And she didn_ _'_ _t tell me about him. At all. She didn_ _'_ _t tell me about the photoshoots. Maybe she was sleeping with him to score weed? Maybe she was fucking **helping** Jefferson, and that little shit Nathan got jealous being the second seed? This entire part of her life was one big secret, I can_ _'_ _t even guess what happened there. But she never wanted me that way. I don_ _'_ _t even think she wanted Frank, but he could actually **give** things to her. I could never **really** trust her. I could only wish, and hope she was telling me the truth that she wouldn_ _'_ _t leave me behind. I may have liked her, but above everything else, I needed to get the fuck out of that town. I had to believe that. But I never... ne-ver. You were in my head for a long time, Max. Maybe not realistically, but it was there. This will be **our** first time. No one_ _'_ _s taken that away from us. And, if you so choose, I won_ _'_ _t even take that away from my alternate self. My... deserving self._ _"_

Max had always known that Chloe would never intentionally guilt anyone to her advantage, especially when it made her look vulnerable. So when she spoke those words, she couldn't not rip off her girlfriend's cut-up shirt and show her, in not so many words but in so many ways, why she was _just_ as deserving.

And it was memories like those that made her partially regret having strawberry blond hair clouding her vision that morning.

She looked so comfortable, resting like that. And Chloe - her new Chloe - probably wouldn't admit it, and Max had no way to prove it, but she was pretty sure that her nights were a lot more restful when her best friend was cuddled beside her.

At least, this time around, Max decided she wouldn't find herself swallowing her teddy bear's eye and going to the ER because of it. She really was a klutz, sometimes.

Of course, she needed a new journal. Something to organize her thoughts, as they began to overlap each other. Possibly digital. She was beginning to realize how old school she was, barely missing any future technology, sans her smartphone.

Someone who appreciated and loved a trend, or an item before it was a 'thing'. There was a term for that. However, she wasn't exactly sure if even _that_ was a term, yet.

Still, she needed a computer. And for that, she needed money.

Thankfully, she was a tad smarter than Biff Tannen. Time to visit an old friend. And she didn't mean to sound cynical, but Max hoped that person was still there.

* * *

"Sup, Doe Eyes?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Just thinking about something."

Even in the crowded cafeteria, they always managed to find two empty spaces. And even if they couldn't, they weren't afraid to simply lean against the wall, out of the general view of the students. Typical preteen gossip and rumors be damned. "What about?"

"If you wanted to get a teacher in trouble, how would you do it?"

"Depends. Who's our target? Last I checked, our grades were pretty bangin'."

A lovely understatement, and a small smile was the only indication of Max's pride at that little victory. "Not our teachers. Hypothetical."

She smirked. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing too crazy. I know a friend who's illustrating a book, and she asked me about it."

"Oh. Umm..." she pondered the scenario for a moment, wracking her brain. "You could plant drugs or bloody knives or something. That usually works. But when you say sabotage..."

"Getting them fired or getting them arrested? I don't know, she didn't go into too much detail. But I'll pass it along. Thanks."

"No prob. Always here to help. Now give me your apple. Need to replenish my thinking tank."

Max absently handed over the fruit, still mulling it over. Evidence? Easier said than done, trying to find that. But fake evidence? That, she could work on.

There were a lot of tapes in the metal cupboard. And she wouldn't be able to stop most of those tapes from being made. But that Darkroom was gonna burn.

Now _there_ was an idea.

"So, I was thinking; what say you try to teach me how to play a guitar?"

Max winced, minutely. That didn't end well the first time. "Uh, sure. Takes a lot of patience, you know." On her part, at least.

"You don't give me enough credit, dude. I'm not gonna disappoint you, Max." She said it all in a light tone, but it wasn't something she said the last time around.

This Max could handle it. She had to.

* * *

"Max! _Max!_ Wake up!"

'Oh, no,' was her first thought as she sat up, the tears fresh on her face. She looked over to the reddish-blonde, standing at the edge of her bed, looking over her friend with nothing but concern. "Chloe, I can explain - !"

"What the hell was that all about? Who's Jefferson?"

Max took a deep, calming breath. If she were asthmatic, she'd be wheezing right now. "A bully I knew."

"You had a bully?" Her fists tightened against the sheets. "When?"

"It's a... recurring dream. I don't think he was ever real."

"Max... you should've told me about it. I could've kicked his ass for you."

For a slight, meaningful second, she saw a red splatter in the middle of Chloe's beautiful forehead, and it disappeared just as quickly. "I know. But you're not a dream catcher, Chloe."

Wordlessly, the girl hopped into her bed, and pulled the covers around her. "The hell I'm not. I've got you, Max. You're good."

She sniffled, a grateful smile on her lips. "I don't think I can sleep right now."

"Oh." She grinned mischievously. "Want me to sing a lullaby?"

Max chuckled. "If you think it'll help."

"It won't. So, you wanna just... talk?" She reached up tentatively, and used part of the sheet to wipe the tears away from her friend's face. "That nightmare must've worried you pretty bad. It happens often?"

She shook her head. "Not as often as you'd think. It was just... scary. But thanks. For having my back."

"Dude, you always got mine. Even in _my_ dreams. Just picture me with a flamethrower, and we'll take the monsters down."

"Done. Chloe and Max versus the world."

"I like those odds."

* * *

Really, the man couldn't stop talking about the lottery win in their own seaside town, the ultimate jackpot going to one of their own, so it didn't take much pestering William to get a hold of his analog camera, and after taking a few shots of the neighborhood for her own selfish needs, she made sure to keep one of them for herself.

A selfie checkpoint. If she messed this up, she had a restart picture.

She hoped against hope that she didn't have to use it, but it was there, just in case. Really, since she had discovered she didn't exactly need a photo at all to get to that moment, this was a completely unnecessary step. Still, she wasn't taking any risks.

Speaking of which - anonymous tips. She should've thought of that earlier.

She planned it carefully. Last night was one of the Vortex Club's old parties, something she had learned from a flyer outside the Two Whales Diner. She paced back and forth that night, waiting exactly one hour after the party's start time, and used the payphone outside the diner to call the police.

She had considered telling them the truth; a sick fuck with a hard-on for mind-raping innocent girls had a secret bunker with a shitload of snuff films. Well, not snuff films, but it would grab their attention more.

Instead, she came up with something with a bit of truth, but it was all immediately provable and believable; the old barn not only failed to meet regulations, but was lived in. She was just overly curious about the girls that kept coming there to sleep and do drugs. "I don't even know what GHB is," she innocently told the operator. She was invited once, but turned the nice man down. "I'm sorry, but I'm really afraid of needles. And anyplace underground just looks creepy, you know? Oh, I have to go. The bus is here."

And she hung up, just as the school bus pulled up near the diner, ready to drop off and pick up the party-goers for the all-nighter.

Of course, Prescott would be implicated, having financed the Dark Room, and owning the barn. But it would probably take more to put him down.

Only the next day, the newspaper had something far more expectant of her, and genuinely more pleasing. The news of Mark Jefferson, world-famous photographer and highlight of Arcadia Bay, having been caught in the deed, had Max wishing she was there, yet again, to see him get hauled out. _That_ was a memory she wouldn't mind reliving.

And even though it was kept from the news, gossip about the Prescotts' role in the scandal spread quickly; after all, it was the Patriarch who owned the barn, and it was heavily implied he paid for the insanely expensive studio equipment, and possibly even the drugs. She really didn't know if anyone in the family knew about the more sinister uses of that room. It could have actually been a storm shelter and studio room. Still, they had to go down for _something_.

Max once believed that some instances should be able to wrap themselves up into a little bow at a certain point, but she felt that she needed to do some hand-holding until everything was resolved. The fact that Sean Prescott wasn't mentioned in the news told her that someone was paid off.

Still, this was a nice first step. Chloe would be proud. Granted, it was a lot less violence and telling off involved, but it worked out for the best - no one was dead, yet. She chalked it up as a win.

It was haphazard of her to take this many liberties in the timeline, not knowing what the future could hold for her and Chloe this time around, but she was positive she could handle it. Either good or bad can come from it. She had learned that there was never any middle ground.

* * *

No one batted an eye at the thought of Max wanting to work as Joyce's assistant in the diner for the summer. She couldn't handle the food distribution for legal reasons, however, so the next logical step would be to help maintain the cleanliness of the diner.

And when she got older, presumably, she would be in charge of managing the invoice of the food product that was trucked into town on a weekly basis.

It was left unsaid; that included groceries needed for the house.

As said before, no one blinked at the idea of Max wanting to help. But it was quite the surprise that Chloe jumped at the opportunity as well.

And the two were left, sweeping the floor of the near-spotless diner, kid-sized aprons and all. "Ugh, we could totally be watching _Spirits Within_ right now."

Max hummed a tune. "You wanted to help."

"Well, yeah, but I thought we'd be having, you know, _fun_?"

"Cleaning a diner?"

"I was hopeful."

"At least we get free lunches, now. No more cereal for breakfast, amirite?"

"Cuz mom's too cheap to pay us."

"At least we can go outside whenever we want to."

"Yeah, and spend all that money we don't have."

"Oh, come on, Chloe. Isn't spending some time with your best friend enough?"

"... You're lucky you're you, Maxine Caulfield."

"I know. I get you for a friend."

"Damn right."

Joyce, leaning against the partially open door to the back, decided for once to not make her daughter give to the swear jar. She smiled wistfully at the two, and especially the good influence that she was sure her daughter needed, and couldn't live without.

She had always seen Max as a daughter. That day was only a confirmation of facts.

* * *

Being a lonely child meant having a lot of lonely nights. Her parents understood that easily, and tried spending time with her as much as they could, and she embraced it. Her parents truly loved her, but their schedules were pretty hectic. She was partially thankful for it, as it gave her more time with Chloe.

So when their schedule was free for at least half the day, at the same time, a trip to the Arcadia Bay Amusement Park was an almost necessary vacation. Of course, Chloe came along.

Chloe didn't love Max's parents nearly as much as Max with Chloe's parents, but they got along really well; they just weren't around enough at the same time to have the girls roam their house all day, or play unsupervised in the backyard pool, or watch television with parental blocks Chloe could easily disable. So they made it a priority to get to know the girl that made their daughter smile like nothing they'd ever seen before.

Hands firmly clasped, the two explored the park, checking out the exciting rides, the less exciting lines, and, of course, the photo booth.

As the adult couple watched the photo strip print out, they could hear the laughter inside the booth, and wished the pictures could be blown up and framed. If they were surprised at one of the last frames being Max placing a tentative kiss on a surprised Chloe's cheek, Max never saw it. She was only looking at her friend for a response. But her worry about theirs', and Chloe's reactions faded quickly as she returned the favor on the very next frame.

Her laugh of joy probably made up for the shocking event, she hoped. With their arms around each other, they left the booth, and skipped in unison to whatever was in their way - completely forgetting about the photo strip they had taken, only focused on having as much fun as they could.

At the end of the night, Ryan Caulfield reluctantly withheld the season pass to the Oregon Ducks games. They both agreed that it would be a much bigger surprise if they presented the gift in a pair.

And Max, after thanking and hugging and kissing her parents the next day, reflected on that as Chloe began to thank them for the gift. That didn't happen the last time around. Going to the Ducks games was always something she and her dad shared. Now, Chloe was coming with them.

And as paranoid as she was about everything else, she was going to mark this up as a good thing.

* * *

Even Max couldn't understand how it all went down. Apparently, a nice little bow can tie itself up once in a while.

Sean Prescott, the upstanding father that he was, went on a business trip, and never returned, leaving his wife, daughter and son without so much as a cell phone number. In response, his account was locked, and opened up in a new name after months of legal business that never made it to the papers. Blackwell Academy, the elite Arts and Science School, took on a completely unexpected upheaval, under the watchful eye of freshly divorced (or, divorce-pending) Katherine Prescott.

With any luck, maybe it wouldn't even have any graffiti by the time she got there. If she was accepted, this time around.

That part, she wasn't so worried about. There was plenty of time to worry about that.

* * *

"Oh, Max, could you pick up some groceries for me?"

"Sure, Joyce. Can I get a list?"

Chloe peeked in through the door to the back room. "You going to the store? Can I go with?"

"How's the kitchen area, darlin'?"

"Spotless, mom. C'mon, you stick me in there all day, there's bound to be some improvement."

She tapped her chin, smiling. "Alright. Besides, I couldn't stop you anyway. Max, I swear, she's worried that if you escape her sight, you're never coming back."

" _Mom_!"

"Never gonna happen, Joyce. Ready, Butterfly?"

She only grumbled as Max took the list from Joyce, and the two walked out of the diner, Max joking if she should be escorted with handcuffs.

Some part of her couldn't even fathom it. But the rest of her knew. This was what she had built towards. This was what made it _that damn simple_.

Chloe's family was as strong as ever, with William able to live another day. And she made it a mission, as she did when she first arrived, to stay a part of it.

* * *

Of course, it was still a fierce battle.

Right before her mom got a nice job promotion, Max Caulfield officially _got_ a job, graduating to an actual paycheck from Joyce.

Months before that, she volunteered in the Big Brothers and Sisters Program. Before that, she signed up for a position in editing the school paper. And the week before, she stepped up as the Lead Editor at Arcadia Bay Junior High's Newsletter.

Her parents supported her career choice, and having that kind of job only strengthened their want to see her succeed, seeing how great of an influence and ego booster that was. They couldn't take all of that away from her.

And Chloe. Oh, Chloe. That was just something they couldn't touch. It was a downright refusal to mess with the destiny of those two, together. Only under a microscope could they see the absolute adoration when they questioned her, during one of those girl talks Vanessa felt it pertinent to have with her daughter. Most times, it didn't even seem like she needed those talks. She was a very knowledgeable girl. So very outspoken, and kind, and even confident in her attitude, but so very loyal.

They couldn't betray her. They could never take her away from Chloe.

So an argument on Max leaving Arcadia Bay didn't happen at all. That was a rather silly and esoteric fight, and was only argued in the Caulfields' heads.

The real battle was Max deciding within herself, on whether or not she could let her parents go without her.

The two sets of parents found it all incredibly simple. Enough dinner dates over the years had led to an understanding between them; they were each other's substitute parents. Chloe and Max, after school, freely had a choice on which house they were spending the afternoon at. Sleepovers were far more than a common occurrence; it was practically the norm. And, thanks to Chloe being separated by a grade and in a new environment as a Freshman, the two were silent, but vocal, in their need to see each other more after their respective school sessions were over.

They never pictured Chloe to be in the Big Sisters program, but it happened. They also didn't realize that the program would allow package deals, for two big sisters to take on a little 'sibling', but it did. They also didn't expect the local paper to interview the two for their hard work and dedication to the community, just a few weeks ago.

There were far too many things that weren't expected out of the girls. But the result was something else entirely.

The two were inseparable, and chaotic, and unstoppable, and most importantly, better, as long as they had each other.

So it was with a great amount of tears that she hugged her parents, and almost to her non-surprise, Chloe's eyes were as moist as she hugged her surrogate mother and father at the airport.

Max's parents said one last goodbye to Chloe's parents, and just like that, she had a new, but very familiar, home. The first thing she had volunteered they all do, as they turned to her? She suggested that they buy some fresh, blue, paint.

She was _not_ going to live in a half-finished house.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So far, so good? Tell me what you think.

Full, 28,000 word story ( **Edit:** Now 50,000 words and completed) on Patr/e/on. Thanks for reading, and please Review! (Lack of reviews = lack of interest. Please show your support in any way you can!)


	4. Like a Moth to a Deer

**Author's Note:** Dedicated to AtomicStryker, my first $5 Patron! Hope you enjoyed the full story! (Not that you're reading this... you have access to the full story now, why would you need to read this?)

* * *

"Come on, Doe Eyes! It's gonna be so great!"

Max looked dubious, barely catching up with her exuberant friend. "In case you haven't noticed, _Butterfly_ , I haven't done this before." And it was true. She had never stepped foot into Arcadia Bay High School, in any reality. This was completely, unequivocally new territory. And some part of that terrified the shit out of her.

Chloe grabbed her hand, and it was suddenly less scary. "I did. And I was frigging terrified, Max. I'm not letting you go through this alone. Come on."

"I have no idea what I'd do without you, Chloe."

"You won't need an idea. That's the point." Her soft smile led them all the way through the front doors. "But call me Butterfly again in public, and I'm leaving you to the sharks."

That gave Max a giant grin - the first one all day. It was a fitting nickname, for reasons that Chloe could never find out, but when Max had made her blush by calling her 'my butterfly', compliment to her nickname of 'Doe Eyes', she had to stick to it. The nicknames were far less annoying than they started out, she guessed.

"Do you think we'll have any of the same classes?"

"... About that... I've been asking around."

"...Okay?"

"Don't worry, nothing bad. Everything good."

"I _think_ I should like the sound of that."

"Oh, if this works out, you're gonna love me more than you already do."

Max seriously doubted it.

She was wrong. The test in front of her was clear, and she was in shock. Here she was, given the chance to skip an entire grade, from a series of exams. Her GPA wasn't an official score until she entered her homeroom class, but she was well aware that her grades were top par, part of her pledge to work her ass off to be a better daughter and a more dedicated student this time around. The thought of actually attending Blackwell with Chloe may have attributed to that. But she wasn't expecting a leap year. Not this soon.

Still, she got to work, and started filling out bubbles. She was _not_ going to let Chloe, and herself, down.

* * *

"Oh my God! Max, you did it!"

She shouldn't have been surprised. The test was embarrassingly easy. The American Education system, for the next four years, was on her side.

Still, she felt giddy when Chloe embraced her and spun her around. "Holy crap! I did!"

"Party at the diner! On my pay! Anything you want!"

Instead, she shook her head. "Nope. Better idea. You, me, the Captain, and _Blade Runner_. What do you say?"

She looked at her strangely. "You want to celebrate by crying at the end of the night?"

"No. I want to celebrate with my two best friends in the world. My teddy and my bestie."

"And apparently, Harrison Ford."

"Hah, Hah. My celebration, my choice. You got the popcorn."

Some part of Max wondered if Chloe found Harrison Ford attractive, having no clue of her orientation in this time. Or, best case scenario, if she was worried that Max found him attractive.

At the end of the movie, it didn't matter, because the two were wrapped in each other, her head on Chloe's shoulder, and Chloe's hand in hers. What truly mattered is that one of Chloe's favorite movies was no longer tarnished with a memory of a broken girl, asking her best friend to end her suffering.

* * *

Max, very aware of her mistakes the first time around, talked to her parents almost daily since they left, never wanting the chance to be estranged from anyone again. And her parents loved as much as they'd always have, she could hear it in their voices, and when she got a better computer and a decent webcam, she could see it on the screen.

Chloe usually sat with her, and occasionally the Price Parents, as they conversed and caught up. Max was always just a little shocked that this was a possibility, but she supposed that was just a natural evolution to her plans, though she didn't see it coming that way. She was so invested in making sure she had no way of going, she didn't look into how all three were going to stay. She had assumed that _she_ would be their anchor. The responsibilities that she took on were surprisingly satisfying and fulfilling, but they were originally just a step towards her goal, of staying in Arcadia Bay. Now, she was the highlight of their little town. She and Chloe were practically neighborhood celebrities.

Everyday Heroes. About time that term started to seem positive in her head. It's been a few years since she made the Quantum Leap, and the mistakes of the past life, her younger years, were beginning to fade. Not in some kind of magic, memory-wiped way, but more in a distant dream, in-another-life, 'I've got something better to replace them with,' way.

It was good. Life was good. But the best parts were just beginning. She hoped.

* * *

Acoustic music playing in the background. Abstract pictures littering the wall. Bongo, sleeping peacefully at her feet, his nose against her multi-colored socks.

She felt herself drifting off as well, listening to her protégé strum a sweet, sullen tune.

Chloe didn't mind the weight on her left shoulder, easily resting her head against Max's as she kept strumming along, spreading her guitar across both sets of laps. She couldn't have told anyone what she was playing, it didn't really matter. But it sure was beautiful. And fitting. And she knew she could stay this way for a long time.

Her eyes peeked over to the half-slumbering brunette. Maxine. Her everything. It didn't take long to acknowledge it to herself when she thought of it that way, seeing her best friend as something more than _just_ her best friend. The devotion they had for each other, even as something akin to sisters (but totally not, as her dreams reminded her), was something she could never even see trying to simulate with anyone else. The girl was at her hip, and she at the girl's elbow.

She honestly couldn't pinpoint when it happened, and she could probably care later, if she wasn't nervous as hell about it.

It was hard to tell which one of them was the more courageous one. She and Max switched personalities often, but there was never a time when Max backed down from a challenge, even when she was reluctant. They followed each other unwaveringly. Not that they had done anything bad, of course. Teenage angst, whoever it was directed towards, were always hashed out _with_ each other, against the rest of the world. That's how they worked. They clicked. Chloe and Max. The unstoppable team.

She ended the song on that note, and Max blinked into consciousness. Chloe smirked. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

"Morning, Butterfly," she joked, fake yawning as she did so. "You're doing great."

"Oh, you were listening? I was just pissing around; I wasn't playing an actual song."

"That's what I do half the time I play. Get a nice chord stuck in your head, and that's all you need if you don't want a recording contract."

Chloe pondered the idea. "Nah. I think I'll stick to canvas."

"Suit yourself. You really could do anything."

She hesitated for a second. "Only if you've got my back, Max."

"Always, Chloe."

She said it so earnestly. Maybe even with a hint of desperation, like the girl worried about their relationship every day of her life. And that's what made her weak. She couldn't understand how she was so powerless around her. She wanted to give that same devotion. "Trying to make me blush, Doe Eyes?"

"Trying?" Her eyes opened up and stared directly into her own. "Really? I have to _try_ , now?"

It sometimes occurred to her that maybe - just maybe - Max was, just possibly, enjoying their companionship almost as much as she was, and maybe wanted a little more out of it. She really couldn't tell with this girl; she was always this affectionate. "Blushing is an art, dear Maxine. If you think you can make this canvas priceless - no pun intended - then go right ahead. Make my day."

That one shocked Max into silence. "Don't..." she lifted her head from Chloe's shoulder. "Don't play like that, Chloe."

"Like what?" A hundred thoughts travelled through her mind. "Your bi-curious friend?"

"Just _curious_?"

She stopped before she could reply instinctively. Fuck it. "No. I'm pretty sure where I am. You?"

Wordlessly, Max nudged the acoustic guitar out of their laps, and spread her leg across to sit on her lap. Blue eyes focused on each other, not for the first time, certainly not the last, but this time, it felt a little more special than usual. "I've been curious about a lot of things in my life. But I'm _always_ sure when it comes to who I care about." Her eyes were still searching. "Tell me if you're scared. Please. Be honest."

"Fucking terrified."

Chloe licked her lips.

"Kiss me, Max."

It was only after Max smiled softly, a true and real confirmation of feelings, when she truly began to panic. Every single part of her wanted to devour her, to smash faces, to do this quick and _God_ , to stop her heart from hurting her chest so _fucking_ much.

She knew her friend would have a different idea. She had her eyes closed for what seemed like minutes, and only when she felt a gentle touch against her lips, her eyes popped open.

It was so... Max. And she loved it.

She slipped her hands into her brown hair, and tenderly felt her cheeks. She breathed through her nose, sighing in relief.

This was where she had to be; where she needed to be.

If she had the chance to make this happen sooner, she would give _anything_ for that opportunity.

Now, trying to explain this to her parents - that was another challenge she'd have to face. But first, she had a girlfriend to kiss silly.

* * *

"Oh, shit. Bill, it happened."

The coffee was held in suspension as he looked left and right, his eyes subconsciously ignoring the newly christened couple in favor of the morning paper - it held a fascinating rags-to-riches story, based in their town, that was sure to be something of a legend in Arcadia Bay history. "What?"

Joyce pointed at Max, who sat on one side of the table, a spoon in her mouth. She then pointed to the other side, and there was Chloe, who sat a little bit lower in her seat. "Observe."

"Oh." He raised his coffee. "Congratulations, you two."

Their daughter clearly wasn't expecting this reaction. "Uhh..."

"Told you," Max sung, leaning against her elbow. "'Let's get some space,' she says... 'Can't control my face temperature in front of them when I'm around you,' she says." She smirked. "Sorry to tell you, Butterfly. You always blush."

The parents nodded in agreement, and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh... please kill me..."

"Oh, relax, Chloe," Joyce waved it off. "Max told us almost two years ago, before she moved in."

Max sighed, resting her head back. That was the biggest gamble she had taken so far. Saying out loud that she had a crush on their daughter (and saying 'just a crush' in itself was probably the biggest lie she had ever told them) was no small feat, especially when she was about to make permanent residence under the same roof. She had to tell them at some point, and knew it probably would have been even worse if anything happened without warning. Having found shelter in their house for nearly a decade, it was hard to imagine they didn't see the possibility, and she chose to be honest about it.

Her gamble, fortunately, paid off. "The fact that she said anything made us sure we made the right choice to have her live with us," Joyce continued, somewhat pleased at the look on her daughter's face. "Now, don't be surprised, Chloe. Max could never keep a secret from us. It's just not in her to try."

She eyed her new girlfriend with a loose jaw and wide eyes. "Well, you sure as shit hid it well from me!"

"That's a couple bucks for the swear jar," William remarked without missing a beat, before going back to his paper. "We could finance a car with the cash we saved for that thing. Maybe I should look into investing like this 'Fields' lady did."

"I'll cover her this time, Bill," Max graciously proposed, looking around the table at the Price family. "And thank you. For understanding."

"Max, you've always been a part of this family," Joyce admitted, "and Chloe's a remarkable child. She deserves someone as special as you. That girl cares so much for you, and we know you two are good for each other."

At the sight of Max's confident, unwavering smile, Chloe made the choice to stand up, her bowl in hand. With purposeful, almost pre-planned steps, she made it over to Max's side and sat directly next to her. "Okay then, now that my personal life is _off the table forever_ ," she looked pointedly at her parents, "are there any new sleeping arrangements I should be angry about?"

Her mother just shook her head. "I trust you two."

"I could turn the garage into another room," William conjectured after a satisfying sip. "But then the sounds would just get echoed around the house. No one's getting pregnant, do what you want."

Now Joyce was the one to look embarrassed. " _Bill_!"

Chloe sank even lower into her chair, and Max grabbed her hand before she could completely escape under the table. "Sorry. If it helps, I'll be a quiet little mouse."

Her girlfriend shook her head ruefully. "It. Doesn't. Help." And yet, when thirty seconds passed, all was back to normal, the two chewing their respective cereals, their ankles crossed under the table as they pondered the world ahead of them.

Chloe caught Max's ankle with her own, and held it there. Max hid her smile behind the spoon.

* * *

Still sunny. No epic storms. So it wasn't the end of the world yet. And that was the end of Max's biggest concerns for the day. At least she was allowed by the fates that are to be happy for now.

Chloe, however, tried to hide her emotions under a veil of confidence. Max had known Chloe twice over, and she knew when a front was put up. "Stop and relax, Chloe. There's nothing to be scared about, remember? That's what you told me."

"Max, I don't believe in half the shit I say. Let's just get in there, and get it over with."

The circulation in her hand was failing, so she was forced to use her other hand to grab at her arm. "We can't just walk in, let everyone see, and walk back out. It will never be 'over with'."

"Not with that attitude, Max! If we let them get to us, the terrorists win!"

"Chloe, look at me." She dug her heels into the ground, and Chloe had no choice but to turn to her. "Calm down. You and me, remember? Just think of this as a bad dream. Now picture me with a flamethrower."

Chloe's eyes brightened at the distant memory. "You and me versus the world, huh?"

"Good odds."

"Okay." With a shuddering breath, she loosened her death grip. "But I'm kicking the ass of anyone who insults you."

"We'll take the monsters down," Max promised. "But kicking ass would only give them the last laugh. How about sabotage?"

"Carefully planned revenge? I like it. That's why you're the smart one."

"I thought I was the pretty one."

In the midst of dragging each other to the school, Chloe chanced a look to her side, at her girlfriend. "Beautiful."

This time, it was both Chloe and Max blushing as they approached the entrance doors, and Max felt more comforted to see a familiar face, waiting for them with a brilliant smile. She wordlessly held out her hand, but Max shook her head. "Thank you. Thank you so much. But Chloe and I have to do this on our own. I don't need your parents on you."

"You're my best friend, Max. They'll know about it in a week. My mom's set in her ways, but I don't care. We all make our own choices. I want to support you."

The couple hugged the girl's frame, and Max felt tears come to her eyes. This was the only acceptance she truly cared about. "Thank you, Kate. You've always been a good friend to us."

"Don't make it sound like I'm dying, Max. You guys are perfect together. No amount of old lessons can tell me any different. Your happiness - it truly feels like a blessing."

Chloe had a firm, bright smile on her features. "I never had any intention of going to hell. But at least I'm in good company." She squeezed Max's hand. "But I feel like with you on our side, you could maybe put in a good word for us?"

Kate chuckled. "Your lives are my salvation. None of us have a chance if you two can't make it. Eternal damnation to anyone who says any different."

Max reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. "You are awesome."

She sagely nodded her head. "Come on, Pricefield. Get your butts in there and show off your happiness! But, probably not too much, because you might get suspension for PDA."

* * *

"People are taking this a lot better than I expected. I can't believe how supportive Kate was. She seemed to know before we did. Still, I'm glad our friends were just as surprised as I was. Even the Joy Nazis didn't rain on our pride parade. Still, a lot less fanfare from the other ... you know, supporters."

"Did you expect streamers?"

"... Maybe an introductory rainbow wristband. A 'welcome to the club' type gift."

She eyed the black band on her arm as she put the last book in her locker. "Huh. I should've thought of that in Art class."

"I don't mean to be a downer, but isn't there usually a calm before the storm?"

Max's papers spilled out of the locker. "Dammit!"

"And it begins," Chloe chuckled, leaning down to pick up the few sheets, missing the brunette trying to control her tremors. "Oh, don't get me wrong, we're a badass team, and nothing's gonna get us down, it's just... it's real quiet, you know?"

Max forced out a laugh. "Yeah. Sure. Are you complaining? I prefer the honeymoon phase to end _later_ rather than sooner."

"Wow, Doe Eyes. At least put a ring on it, first."

"I'm getting mixed signals here. A wristband or a ring?"

"Hmm..." Chloe pondered as she handed over the papers. "Decisions, decisions..."

"Time to go to work, Butterfly. We'll talk matrimony in front of your mom."

"Mood killer."

* * *

"Prom's coming up."

"Err... Chloe, would you do me the honor of going to prom with me?"

"What? Oh, shit Max!" she laughed. "I was just trying to hash out if we even wanted to go. It's not exactly our kind of function."

"I was actually gonna write an article about how subjective and... judgmental it was, some time ago. And then I got a girlfriend, and it wasn't so difficult anymore to see myself _enjoying_ one of those things."

"We dance, we drink, we talk to our friends, we see a couple break up, we see a couple sneak off, we go to the hotel after party, and you get lucky."

"One problem - I'm the school photographer."

"There are some things at prom that a camera should never be pointed at, Caulfield. I'm sure the staff will understand. Don't you have underlings to take your place?"

Max mulled the idea over. "I think I can call a few people. I know Amanda could help. I might even be able to rope a teacher into it. I doubt she'd have a prom date."

Chloe clasped her hands together, and Max smiled at her excitement. "So it's settled! So what d'you wanna do? Prom or no?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be the only thing we do that night..."

"Of course not. You're getting laid. Refer to previous itinerary."

Max shrugged, her smile still in place. "Well, I at least want to work for it. Let me take you out for the night. I'll plan the evening."

"Max Caulfield, taking me out on an actual date? Is this really happening?"

"I've taken you out before, Chloe."

"Not in actual dresses, and corsages, and done up hair."

"What do you consider 'done up'?"

"You know... something that would make you say..."

* * *

"Holy shit."

"I was looking for the word 'Wow'."

Chloe tentatively reached up, and felt through the strands of her girlfriend's multi-colored hair. "Am I supposed to pick one?" she joked.

Max shook her head. "You can, if you want. Joyce helped me, and I think I like it. At first, I was looking at a blue streak. I couldn't not pick up a bottle of that. And then I saw purple hair dye, and red, and orange. Maybe a little pink. Couldn't let it all go to waste. I'll alternate. So which one do you like most?"

"Full, honest opinion? Brown." She took her girlfriend into her arms and kissed her. "But I have a weakness for the blond. And red. Just don't go full color on me. Mind if I borrow one?"

"Sure. What would you like?"

"Hmm... I think I'll go with blue."

"You know; I think I could see that on you really nicely."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Should you expect something on Valentine's Day? Do you dare wonder?

In the next episode of 'One More Time' - Max and Chloe embark on a night of romance on the evening of Prom. One night, and yet, the longest chapter I have so far. So much fluff.

Please Review! (And Patr/e/on. If I didn't say that enough.)


	5. Date Night

Taking place after _Choices, Choices_ , my Multi-Max romance jointfic, Max (Rainbow) reflects on her life and decisions thus far.

* * *

 **Episode 4: Date Night**

Max sat heavily in one of the diner's high chairs, leaning against the counter.

She was thankful for the empty establishment - it gave her time to think.

 _It_ _'_ _s hard to think of this as my new life. My old life doesn_ _'_ _t feel like a decade ago_ _-_ _It feels so much longer. Still, every day of this journey, I_ _'_ _m looking at the differences. It_ _'_ _s become an obsessive game for me. Such small details, so different from before. I didn_ _'_ _t even know Kate was an Arcadia Bay Native. Should I have befriended her that soon? She was so accepting of Chloe and me, even before we were together. We_ _'_ _ve all become even better friends since. I can see the friendship between father and daughter; I wish I was there for her when she stood up for our friendship to her mom, but she said it was handled well. And she_ _'_ _s always so happy. I_ _'_ _m sure she was happy before she met me, but this time, when she goes to a friend for help, my words will actually mean something. She_ _'_ _ll never have to feel alone. I think I just answered my own question._

She looked around the diner. _I can_ _'_ _t believe I volunteered to work here seven years ago. It_ _'_ _s gotten so much bigger around me. It_ _'_ _s almost a restaurant at this point, but it still has that same feel. I_ _'_ _m glad that after all the fortune that_ _'_ _s come their way, they still stick to these jobs. I guess, given the choice, most would do what makes them happy. If they were happy before, then I guess there isn_ _'_ _t much of a difference to them._

 _A part of me worries that they_ _'_ _re saving all that money for Chloe and me. We_ _'_ _re beyond taken care of, with Miss Fields being an unofficial sponsor of us. I need to find a way to tell them without freaking them out. They were already confused as hell when I bought Chloe a truck for her seventeenth. Thankfully, Chloe thinks it came from William. He wouldn_ _'_ _t have thought of the modifications I had arranged for it. Obviously, he didn_ _'_ _t._ That thought made her cringe. _Cynical, much? I_ _'_ _m glad they both have my back, or maybe they think the money_ _'_ _s from my parents. It_ _'_ _s done, anyways. A normal truck, with the durability of a tank. I just hope she doesn_ _'_ _t get in an accident. It would be hard to explain why there is barely a scratch. And why her wraparound has shock absorbers like a fucking bumper car._

She absently rubbed her multicolored wristband, looking up at the ceiling. _I feel like she_ _'_ _s up to something. We usually go to lunch together. Yet, here I am, alone. Maybe she_ _'_ _s getting ready for Prom. Or she_ _'_ _s working on a painting she doesn_ _'_ _t want me to see yet. She seemed to really like the picture I took of the both of us, looking at our wall of photos. That_ _'_ _s a checkpoint photo I_ _'_ _ll proudly cherish._

 _We_ _'_ _re getting closer to that date. Judgement Day is an appropriate name. I can_ _'_ _t seem to stop counting down the days in my journal. Two hundred thirty-nine days, if you were interested. I know you_ _'_ _re not. Through all the fun Chloe and I have had, It_ _'_ _s under a raincloud sometimes. I can_ _'_ _t believe how positive she is, so full of joy. I can_ _'_ _t help but think it_ _'_ _s because of me. And I_ _'_ _m so happy with her, when I_ _'_ _m not doubting the over looming doom I carry, and she helps me forget that without even knowing. The happiness we share_ _-_ _I never want it to go away._

 _I find it really hard to forget details_ _-_ _near impossible. I remember every time we_ _'_ _ve embraced, every kiss we shared since her first kiss two years ago. I remember every time she needed comforting, every smile she_ _'_ _s ever had. I guess I_ _'_ _ve always been a freak when it comes to details_ _-_ _I remember your smile, too._

 _I hope you_ _'_ _re not mad at me. You actually enjoy school_ _-_ _you like the challenge. You love helping little kids. You love tutoring. Just the other day, you told me about a guy you helped out a few months ago and he looked so utterly depressed. He_ _'_ _s now in LA, with a wife, and apparently a calling. I don_ _'_ _t know how a waitress would have such a presence, but you did. You are what you_ _'_ _ve always wanted to be. Your parents are so proud of what you_ _'_ _ve become. I_ _'_ _m so proud of you, Chloe._

 _And that_ _'_ _s why I have to let the past go. You will **always** be my pirate buddy. But I feel like I_ _'_ _m cheating on my Butterfly. I love you so much. And I always will. But you don_ _'_ _t exist anymore. She_ _'_ _ll never replace you in my heart and mind, but in every single other way, she is you. Time travel is fucked up that way._

 _I would have taken any version of you, my pot smoking rebel, and we could have run away, and never looked back. But you_ _'_ _re right_ _-_ _I love this version of you even more. I love this version of me so much more than the hipster, but I_ _'_ _ll always have a soft spot for her. I even have a pencil case._

 _In any reality, we make each other better people. And now, we_ _'_ _ll no longer have to imagine what would happen if we never left each other_ _'_ _s side._

 _I love you. I love her._

 _I love **you**._

 _And tonight, I_ _'_ _ll tell you, for the very first time. I know you love me, too. But I hope you_ _'_ _ll be able to say it again, for the very first time. You_ _'_ _ve had trouble saying it, and as ironic as it is, I don_ _'_ _t want to wait any longer._

 _You were my first love, and you_ _'_ _ll be my last. If I have to do it all again, and again, and again, just know that. You_ _'_ _re my first and my last. That_ _'_ _s how it ends. Always, Chloe Price. Always._

"Always," she whispered.

"Hm?"

She spun in the 50's style high chair, only to come face-to-face with her girlfriend. That in itself was normal - what was unusual was the uncannily familiar black cotton beanie on top of her head. "New cap?"

She nodded. "I got it from dad. I can't let you see my new look before prom."

Max smirked. "You finally decided to dye your hair, huh? Took you long enough."

"Well, I had to! You were outclassing everyone, looking like a Brony. I swear, if I blow into your hair, Skittles might fall out."

"I'll try to go for one color by the time we leave. No guarantees."

"I don't mind. I wanna see that hair shake around like a helicopter. You might hypnotize me."

"Bark for me."

" _Arf!_ "

"Can't do what's already done."

"So you've got me under your spell, fair enough. Just don't make me, you know, hump your leg at prom. Because I totally might play along, and you only have yourself to blame. Wait until we get to the hotel."

"No hotel tonight, babe. I've got a night planned."

She tilted her head. "You know, I completely forgot you told me that. I'll change the dinner reservation to tomorrow."

"Are you sure? Was it somewhere expensive?"

"Dirt-cheap, but it's the thought that counts." She gave her a curious eye. "Were you talking to yourself before I got here?"

"Uh, yeah. I talk to myself sometimes, you know that."

"... Holy crap, did you just make up a lie right in front of me? Did you think I'd fall for that?"

"You've never talked to yourself?"

" _You_ haven't. Spill, Max. What's up?"

She quirked her lips. "It's been a while since you asked me that. Unfortunately, same answer; I had a daydream."

"At work? That's not like you."

"It's been a slow day."

"Still. You okay? Nervous or something?"

"A little. As you've stressed, this is our first real date. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Yeah, like that's even possible." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Max's own. She gave a little peck to her nose as she backed off. "Just try to keep it all in Oregon. I don't want you to steal my ideas for _my_ planned date."

"It's nothing huge. It'll be just you and me. It's really hard to do that in this town - a place for just us."

Chloe smiled wistfully. "It is, isn't it? I will remember this conversation, Caulfield."

"When we buy a house or something?"

"Let's see how tonight goes first."

"I will remember this, Price."

* * *

Awkward cough. "Uh, wow. _Wow_. You, umm... you c-clean up nicely, Doe Eyes. You look, um, great," she finished lamely. "I mean, as great as you usually do, but... _wow_."

Though she planned on saying out loud those three important words this very night, she fought every part of her from spewing it out now, in the presence of the light blue, sparkling dress-clad _woman_ in front of her. "You... are so _beautiful_ , Chloe."

The girls both chose simpler styles, shopping together days earlier, and the other could guess what they would look like. But what they saw was something else entirely.

Joyce and William, watching the two look each other up and down, decided not to bother them for a picture. Besides, knowing Max, they'd have enough for a scrapbook by the end of the night.

They would. Two scrapbooks, actually. And a small, personalized album that would _never_ reach the Price parents' eyes.

But right now, Max had more clothing to add, that she made herself. From behind her back, she produced a silky, flowing belt with a blue butterfly pendant, already pinned against the rainbow colored arrangement. "If I may?"

Chloe was almost in tears as Max neatly wrapped it around her waist, carefully pinning it to her bodice after looping it over her bare shoulder. She wordlessly pulled her best friend, her other half into a hug, and the two stayed like that until Chloe could manage to keep her tears in check.

"Thank you guys," Max choked, before clearing her throat. "We'll be back soon."

"Not too soon," William told them sternly. "Have fun. You two have been model students, and quite frankly, it's worrying us. We're proud of you both; you deserve this night."

Chloe brushed back a blue streak behind her ear, and reached for Max's hand. "We'll make you proud, dad."

His face was soft and kind, and Max never took for granted how relieving a sight it was. "Enjoy yourself."

* * *

"I'm in love with you, Maxine Caulfield."

A bit earlier than planned, but she wasn't going to complain. She took the key out of the front door and placed it in her small purse, then put her full attention on her girlfriend. "Chloe Elizabeth Price, you couldn't even wait until we stepped off the front porch before I blow your mind with my surprises?" She put her hands on her hips. "I wanted to earn that. Then again, that's probably why I love you so much."

She quickly wrapped her hands around her lover, smiling _so gratefully_ , and kissed her soundly. "Been wanting to say it for a while," she whispered against her soft lips, "just couldn't find the right time, and I still can't. But I couldn't wait any longer."

Max pulled back and smirked.

In the distance, a distinct series of _clops_ were heard, and a rolling noise with minor squeaks and squeals broke through the silent night. Chloe was dumbfounded as a manned horse dutifully trotted towards the front of their house, carriage in tow.

"Max... you didn't..."

"I like to go old school." She refrained to mention how ridiculous the price was to rent a white horse for the night over a limousine. "Doth carriage awaits, Butterfly."

Chloe began to tear up, again, and Max would have been a little disappointed if she hadn't. She produced a small, square version of the sash she had given her, rainbow colors and all, and dabbed the silky piece on her cheeks. "You're the best friend ever," Chloe muttered.

Max said nothing, only leaning up to kiss her cheek. Wordlessly, she pulled her date along towards the carriage.

* * *

"I love you, Chloe Price."

Chloe groaned at the ironic tone, remembering not five minutes earlier that she couldn't think of when to say such a statement, now in a fucking horse-led carriage. "...You're right. I should have waited a few more minutes."

Max wrapped an arm around her girl, pulled her close as the horse gently galloped forward. "You may find this a surprise, but I forgive you."

"You know, I never pictured you as the assertive one in this relationship."

"Me neither. But I'm having fun. You?"

Chloe snuggled her head into the crook of Max's neck, and laid a kiss against the pink strap of her flowing gown. "My sweet prince."

* * *

As expected, the night got better from there. Pulling up to prom in a horse-drawn carriage wasn't a common sight, and the couple that stepped off the stage-coach was, while common, not exactly attention seekers. But now the spotlight was on them, and the two couldn't care less. All that mattered to them were each other, and their friends.

Daniel DaCosta gave a low whistle. "Wow, you two! Coming out with flair!"

Chloe made sure no was watching except their closest friends, and flipped him off. "We came out a while ago. You're just clueless."

Dana Ward simply nodded her head as her date looked dumbfounded between the two. "They were dating for almost two years, Danny."

"Really?" He looked perplexed. "So that time I asked you if I should ask Max out, and you just glared at me for like, ten minutes until I backed away... I thought you were just playing overprotective sister?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nope. Just overprotective."

Max shook her head. She was glad - she'd already broken Warren's heart enough times, she didn't need any extra baggage. And she _still_ , after all these years, didn't know how to gently break _that_ to someone. "You guys planning on staying?"

"Nah," Daniel answered. "We were actually planning on going to the Vortex Party tonight. Wanna come with?"

"No thanks," Chloe made a disgusted face. "Max and I drove by there once, and the music almost rocked my truck. Hell no."

"I've got a night planned," Max revealed happily, "and a freaking barn is nowhere near my schedule." It didn't surprise her that the Vortex club still existed, but she was pleased that they were forced to work outside of the school's confines. It was no longer a recognized organization within Blackwell Academy. Instead, they hosted their parties at the newly renovated barn, still owning the place after the police cleaned out the area. Apparently, the bunker was an _attraction_ to people.

If there was any saving grace it was the fact that Kate had opted out of the night altogether, instead choosing to spend her night helping Courtney get over the flu. She and Chloe planned on stopping by the next day to help out. Really, the girl was a saint, and Max was going to make sure that Kate would be recognized for her selflessness.

"I wonder what that building's all about across the street?" Dana pondered, sitting back in her comfy chair - there were a lot of those around the edge of the gym, and it was vastly preferred over actual dancing. "Think it's a new McDonalds? It's always a new McDonalds."

"I wouldn't mind a Starbucks," Max commented, counting down the days until she could have iced coffee. You really don't know what you have until you lost it for a decade. Still, she was more than a little curious about the renovations across the street. It was a park before she had made the Leap, but the park had been moved to further down the street, along with a playground. The building was a surprise, and surprises worried her. Still, there was nothing she could do but wait and see. And that worried her even more.

"There you are," Taylor found the two couples huddled together. "About time you two showed up. You look amazing. Have you guys seen Evan?"

"Bathroom," Daniel answered her without missing a beat. "He told me if you asked for him, meet him in the furthest stall."

She wrinkled her nose. "Pig."

Max and Chloe gave each other a knowing glance. She'd be joining him in ten minutes. "Well," Chloe lingered on the word, "if you guys don't mind, I have to see this epic date Dream Girl's got all planned out."

They stayed around for one dance, but the music around them didn't set the mood they were going for, and that combined with all the _staring_ ("Two hot lesbians are hot," Chloe warned her), they decided to bow out earlier than expected, but that fit into her plans quite nicely.

The group said their goodbyes, and the pair left just as quickly as they'd arrived, only stopping to take a picture at the entrance, for alibi purposes.

* * *

"What's next? A smooth gondola ride down the river?"

"Nope." Though she made a mental note. "And Arcadia doesn't have a river."

"So what's in the plans?"

"Something more... adventurous."

In another life, Max had always made it a point to speak to the school's custodian, Samuel, every once in a while. His affixation to nature always made an easy topic to stick with, and he never failed to say something interesting. But even then, there were perks beyond that. Samuel, so comfortable talking to Max, never complained while she walked alongside him some mornings, keeping some space while he did his checklist of morning duties. On one such occasion, he had left his set of keys in his truck, and, by instinct, went over to dig under the third bush on the left, to recover a ring of keys so heavy, she was sure the squirrels could have never carried them away.

In this life, she hunted down the keys again, and copied them.

"And... we're in," Max grinned, while Chloe looked on in shock.

"Holy shit, you're hardcore!"

"Thank you, thank you," she simpered, and pushed the door open. "Feeling a little impish? The Blackwell Pool is ours."

She took in the sight of the Olympic-sized pool, while Max explained. "I know how much you loved the pool at my old house, so why don't we relive old times? Pirate buddies!"

She looked down at herself, and back at Max's beautiful dress. "More like high class wenches, right now." Her eyes brightened, and she smirked devilishly. "Now when you say 'impish'..."

The partial brunette said nothing, rather removed her straps and let the entire dress pool at her feet. "I will if you will."

Chloe didn't even hesitate; two could play daring. She stripped down to her strapless bra and panties, and after a teasing smile, flung the cups to the side.

Max was lost in her gaze, staring at her girlfriend's flawless, perfect breasts, until she decided to get on with it.

With a steady breath, she removed her bra. And after a small moment of gathering courage from her girlfriend's lustful eyes, she stepped out of her matching lace panties.

Chloe noticed immediately. "Shit, Max! You shave?"

She shook her head. "Not until this morning." She stepped closer, and Chloe found it alluringly intimidating. Her ankle strap heels still adorning her feet, she stalked towards her girlfriend with a predatory gaze. "What? I like to plan things out."

The strawberry-blonde reached out to stroke her bare waist, and her hands were clammy as they glided across the smooth skin, feeling the goosebumps ripple. "You're beautiful, Max. Breathtaking."

Max reached up to remove the clip holding up her lover's hair. "As are you, my Butterfly."

"My little Doe," she whispered, leaning down to take the brunette's lips onto her own.

* * *

The stagecoach stopped in front of the Two Whales Diner. "Want something to eat? Joyce gave me the keys."

Chloe, so relaxed after their 'pool session', merely nodded wistfully. While they had done a few things before, tonight took it all to a whole new level. "Usually," she muttered after a few seconds, not even aware she was walking to the door with her, "you're supposed to take me to dinner _first_."

"Au contraire; I had to know if you were worth putting my money up for," She grinned cheekily, unlocking the glass doors.

She was thankful for the swimming cap Max had given her before they entered the pool, as the cold air was just beginning to affect her. Her sleek, shining hair reached her shoulders, and she tossed it back as her girlfriend opened the door. She reached back to undo her hair. "Max, this has seriously been the best. Thank you."

Max gave her a look. Then a smirk. The door opened wide, and she was confronted by a single table in the middle of the diner, glowing by candlelight, some Bowie playing in the background. "You're welcome, Chloe."

"Oh, Max," she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She wasn't gifted to this sight often - her love being shocked to her core with her blatant thoughtfulness and care - and Max licked it all up. "You're fucking spoiling me."

"I'm only spoiling you if I don't think you deserve it," she countered, having expected that line to come up at least once tonight. "You're worth so much more to me than all this, Chloe."

Her smile was so bright. "I wanna laugh and cry at your lines at the same time." She pulled her into a hug. "God, I don't know what'd happen to me without you."

"You'd probably cry less."

She sniffed. "Somehow, I doubt it."

Max was truly glowing as she embraced her girlfriend, and though she tried to be the strong one, she was on the verge of breaking down herself. _This_ was what she could have been doing all those years, had she made the right choices. And now, she was afforded the chance to live this moment. This was her new life.

Chloe's stomach grumbled. She giggled. Chloe actually _giggled_. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. We had a really good workout." She pulled her along and pulled back her chair. "So, what'll it be?"

"Wait." The strawberry-blonde looked perplexed. "You're cooking?"

"Uh... yeah?"

She crossed her arms. "You'd think I'd let you cook for me, in that beautiful dress, and let you gallivant and serenade me all night, and _cook_ for me? I can't let you do all this!"

She had suspected that old independence streak to surface, but she still didn't have an answer to it. "I have an apron." Uncomfortable pause. "Would you rather we stared into each other's eyes and reflect on our life thus far?"

"Maxine Caulfield, I won't stand for you cooking for me. Not tonight. And yes, I _do_ have a better idea." She wrapped an arm around her neck. "What say you and I go one more place?"

"I, maybe, already sent away the horse. I didn't think we would've needed it again."

"Then let's use three hundred horses. I can drive now, remember?"

* * *

Max stared up at the lighthouse with a very familiar, foreboding sense. "Chloe?"

"Do you remember this place?" She looked so relaxed, so in her element, driving her birthday present. Left elbow on the open window sill, her noticeably longer strawberry-blond hair with dyed blue streaks waving behind her, her slim hands holding the wheel with the greatest of ease as they ran the curves. "When we were little, we came up here all the time. I can't remember the last time."

Max could. But it wasn't the same date Chloe had in mind. She wracked her mind for a memory that was, essentially, over two decades ago. They had gone back multiple times in the last timeline, but not in this one. "We were playing here; my parents were sitting on the bench. It was the last time we really got dirty playing pirates. We were five, I think."

Chloe nodded, parking next to the walking path. She stepped out, and before Max could unbuckle, the door was open, and her girlfriend was ready to lead her on. "What else do you remember?"

"Bongo," she recalled with a smile. "Your parents showed up, and Bongo leapt out of the car."

"Yeah," Chloe smiled fondly, removing a basket from the open trunk. "I saw that little kitten for the very first time. God rest his little old soul."

Max nodded sadly. Now buried in the backyard, the end year had been extended by four compared to last time. It was really shocking how many car accidents she had to prevent in this family. She didn't want to curse it by calling it out loud an actual Price family curse. "When did you pack a basket?"

She shrugged. "Remember my dinner reservation? This is my table for two. Fixed all tis up _before_ I put on the dress. Take notes."

"So you had a plan for tonight?"

"Half of one. Had to involve this place."

"Uh, why?"

The two traveled up the narrow path, hand-in-hand. "Because this is the only place in the world where we could pretend it was just you and me. We were never alone. Ever. We've always had friends, family, perfect strangers. I mean, sure, we can count our room, but it was never... _this_ special, y'know? This was our spot. Our haven. Even as our parents looked over us, our little heads couldn't even register it. We were the only two little girls in the world, alternating eyepatches and black paper hats. I don't know why we stopped going here. I think mom and dad were afraid of Bongo running off, so they decided to keep us in the gated backyard."

"No. They saw a deer and were wary of wild animals. I went up to it and pet it. They were _way_ too terrified to take a picture of that." At some point, they were supposed to return after it became more of a tourist attraction, with an actual dirt path to follow, but this time, no one brought up the idea of returning.

"Wow," Chloe commented with a smile. "You really were hardcore, Mad Max."

Max brought her clasped hand around to her other side, so Chloe's arm could wrap around her waist. "Haven't gotten a nickname like that in a while from you."

"Because Doe Eyes really fits."

"Does it still?"

"We'll see."

"Uh... are we about to do a dare or something? A streaking challenge?"

"Max, give me more credit than that. I don't need an excuse to see you naked, and I don't need anyone else to see. You're all mine. And this," she paused, dramatically waving her basket towards an open space, occupied by a spread-out blanket and an unlit candelabra, "is just a small token of my gratitude."

"Oh wow, Chloe..."

"See? There's the doe-y eyes I was looking for." She tucked a strand of reddish-brown hair behind Max's ear, getting a better view of her astonished visage. "Now, we're gonna eat right. On the ground, no chairs, no Bowie playing... I'm starting to think this is a horrible idea."

"It's... it's perfect, Chloe. Thank you." She gently tucked her legs beneath her as she sat on the ground. "Come on. Join me."

Chloe took the offered hand, and sat down next to her. She opened the basket. "Oh, would you look at that? You're not the only one who can go old school." She smirked as she slyly pulled out a cassette player. "No Bowie, but I've got someone you might be interested in." She clicked a button, and a smooth acoustic wafted over the area.

"Crosses?" She had played that title frequently in their room, while working on homework, or even just relaxing. But it was in a slightly different arrangement. "Chloe... is that you?"

She nodded. "How is it?"

Max closed her eyes. "It's amazing. It's even more complex than my arrangement."

She looked at the cassette player with some pride. "I was gonna dumb it down so it could make some nice background music, but then I thought, 'Why the hell would I do that when I have the chance to impress Max Caulfield?' So yeah, now you know why mom gave me a different lunch break. Needed time to work this down in a studio we call a garage."

"Well, consider me deeply impressed." She rested her head against her girlfriend's bare shoulder, eyes still shut.

Chloe was careful not to move her other shoulder as she pulled out the food and the lighter. "I'm glad most of this stuff is supposed to be eaten cold. No burgers or anything. I've got a few turkey sandwiches, though."

"Mayo?"

"Of course. Can't eat that shit dry."

"You're the best."

"Oh, please, my little doe. I am merely an apprentice to the master." She carefully lit the three candles on the silver holder, then focused on unwrapping the food. "Huh. I'm glad we knocked hypothetical boots in the pool earlier. I forgot I packed so much shrimp and tuna and seafood, and not nearly enough mouthwash."

Max chuckled. "You really want to talk about eating etiquette after what happened at the pool?"

She wiggled her shoulder. "Hush you. No discussing our statutory dalliances in public."

"Yes, ma'am."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Shut up and drift away to my acoustics, please."

The girl had no problem doing just that, grabbing a deveined shrimp and relaxing, if only for a temporary moment, staring off into the moonlit sky covering Arcadia Bay.

One moon, one town, all in one piece. She marked that as a _huge_ victory. That combined with her soulmate by her side, enjoying each other's company as they had always done, and this time, both were fully aware of how much they meant to each other. Together as friends, lovers, and pirates.

Just eight more months - she just had to hold out until October eleventh, and if there weren't any tears in time and space, or falling birds, or dead whales, or spirit animals, or double moons, or realities shifting into one another - then it would all be over. She'd won. She hoped.

Chloe shivered, and Max felt it, still leaning on her. "You cold? Chloe?"

"No, I ah, just... I was thinking."

"Thinking about something that gave you the chills? Did it involve a pool?"

"No, smartass. I was more thinking of, well, the final surprise of the night."

"There's more?" She really didn't feel like going anywhere, and short of a plane trip to Italy, there wasn't much else she could think of as a surprise. "Back to Prom?"

"Do you want to dance? Right here?"

It didn't take much for her to feel into it, the music still playing. "Can I... take off my shoes?"

"We're on a blanket. Go crazy."

She was already unbuckling the ankle straps. "How's your footwork?"

"Terrible. You?"

"Worse."

"Good. Because I'm more in favor of that idea you had back at the diner."

"Oh?" She reached up, and Chloe graciously pulled her to her feet. Her partner kicked her heels somewhere behind her, and the two wrapped their arms around each other. "And what was that?"

"This," she muttered, raising their entwined fingers beside them and wrapping her arm around her waist. "You and me. Staring sappily into each other's eyes. Reflecting on life. It would probably work better without context, but hell, that's what we're doing."

"Oh, I don't get a choice?" The slightly shorter girl joked, returning the arm gesture.

"Maxine, life is full of choices. This is one of those choices that is simply out of your hands. Just let your dear Chloe serenade you for the rest of the night."

She pretended to think about it for a few seconds. "I kinda don't want to go anywhere. But I'll happily go wherever you take me."

Chloe said nothing, merely leaning up slightly to catch a kiss on her forehead, and resting her chin on her lover's shoulder. "Good," she finally admitted. "Because tonight, this is our stop."

Her rendition of "To All of You" was the next track, playing with little distortion on the small cassette player, and they gently rocked along to the music. If there were any mistakes, Max didn't care to listen to them; she was only absorbed in the song itself, the atmosphere, and the comfort she found in it all.

It was a lifetime ago when she found herself terrified of this place. Her life had almost _ended_ here. She had come to this place for shelter, a place to protect herself from the storm. It was a nightmare even before Chloe gave her the ultimatum. It was a nightmare before her _actual_ nightmare. Even as she kissed her best friend, it was under the pretenses of letting her go for the final time, before her epiphany. And then she was forced to watch her world get brutally ripped away.

Once upon a time, The Arcadia Bay Lighthouse was an actual, possibly literal, hell for her.

And in this very single moment, the thought never even occurred in her content mind. Not once.

* * *

"Hey, Max? Quick question. Will you marry me?"

Max blinked. Was she in another dream? Did a time rift fast forward happen? It hadn't occurred in over a decade, never in this timeline.

She looked down, and sure enough, her sparkling pale pink dress was still on, and Chloe's beautiful blue gown, with a flowing silk rainbow sash, didn't look any different. Even the music playing was the same. "C-Chloe?"

"I-I'm sorry, it's just - "

"I was confused for a second. I thought we were somewhere else."

"Oh! Oh. So you... you didn't... hear me?"

"I did. I just thought I was dreaming."

"Oh. Okay." She chuckled nervously. "I made it awkward."

"I dream about it often."

She blinked owlishly, her fingers trembling against her spine. "Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. I _dream_ awkward." She let the thought linger. "So ask again. Please."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Max blinked. Maybe she _had_ been dreaming? "That wasn't what I heard."

"I'll get back to that, I promise." She said it quickly, like she regretted that the words ever left her mouth, and putting more words in front of it would push it to the back of both of their minds. "And yeah, I know I sound like a school counselor and all, but it's something we _never_ talked about. I mean, what's next? After we graduate Arcadia High top of our class, me as president and you as valedictorian, and we ace our way into Blackwell, and we burn the fucker down with our mad skills, and you just write this impassioned article for the paper about how Arcadia Bay is _on the map_ because of _us_ , and - !"

"California."

She stopped her rambling, and worked her mouth for a few solid seconds. "San Francisco?"

Max nodded. "Or Los Angeles. If that's cool with you."

She considered it. "I didn't exactly say we should leave town, but... we're kinda being held back, huh?"

"It's a nice, small fishing town." And it had gotten a lot better after the town celebrity was jailed for life and shanked in his cell, and the local multi-millionaire was found in one of his own hotels in Colorado, years later, overdosed. The irony. "But I don't think being promoted to Two Whales Manager was ever in the plan. No offense to Joyce."

"So... you've thought this out."

Max bit her bottom lip and nodded. "Did you?"

"Well, frankly, I wanted to talk to you about it. But I see that you've already decided." It wasn't intended to sound hurtful, or angry. It was more a look of genuine confusion.

"Plans change. It's not set in stone. It never is. What we define is our own, and no one can take that away. It's just that, well, I'm always going off the assumption that you'd always be with me." She frowned. "They're always dreams. Never an actual plan. I've got a book full of photos that, if I pull a few strings with some teachers, I could have published, but I haven't. I've seen portraits that you've drawn that could put you on international tours if they ever see the outside of the house. I'm a dreamer, Chloe. Together, we could be doers. I can plan whatever I want, but until you're ready, I'm staying right here. San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, New York, Atlanta, Spain, Italy... or right here in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. I'm not going a damn place until you come with me. _That_ _'_ _s_ my plan."

Chloe's blue eyes sparkled as they swayed together. "That speech sounded planned out, Doe Eyes."

Max shrugged. "No. Dreamed out. Wanna know my actual plan? Where I'll see myself in five years?" She pulled her date even closer. "Dancing. With you. Not in some fancy high-end white void, filled with food I'll never eat, sucking up to people I'll never truly respect. Right here. Celebrating the five-year anniversary of one of the happiest nights of our lives. That's my plan. And it's got you in it, from beginning to end. And it started with your question."

Chloe nervously cleared her throat. "So it does." She reached back to undo the rest of her hair. "You know, I, uhhh... didn't picture tonight being so... you know... _this_. And I thought, just this afternoon, 'You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna blow her mind. She wants old school, she's got it!' And then you bring in a goddamn horse and a carriage, and you just don't have a clue how much I love you for that. Or maybe you do. Well, it's what _you_ want, Max. I want to give you one of the happiest nights of your life, and dammit, I just can't let it end here. Not with a picnic. You give me so much, and all I want is _you_. And all I can give you is a promise." With visibly trembling hands, she slid a small, silver band down the middle of her shoulder-length hair. "And you're not a material person, I know. Neither am I. We keep it mad simple. But, for once, I wanted to give you something complicated."

She backed away, lingering in her girlfriend's touch as she was forced to let go, and dropped down to her knee. "I love you, Maxine. And I'm not afraid. You mean everything to me, and I'm not afraid to let you know that. I know you'll say yes, and you saying anything else doesn't scare me nearly as much as it should. I know, you and me, we're going to rock the fucking world together, famous or rich or not, and that doesn't scare me. What scares me is, and I don't really know how to explain it, but what really terrifies the shit out of me is how _fearless_ you make me." The silver band glimmered brightly, reflecting the soft candlelight as she pinched it between her fingers.

She held it out to her lover; her everything. "Our greatest adventure yet, Doe Eyes. You and me. Will you marry me, Maxine Caul - _woah!_ _Mfff_!"

Max had dropped to both knees and grabbed the back of her new fiancée's head. She then gave her the most forceful kiss she had ever initiated. "Sorry, but you talked way too fucking long, and _yes_ , holy shit, _YES_!"

The two embraced, the teens laughing at the other's antics even in the most serious of moments, unapologetic in their actions.

It was several minutes after literally rolling around in the blanket, did Max remember to actually put on the ring. The two looked over, both pleased and amused to see the ring lying next to a standing bottle of wine ("Don't tell mom, but dad was _really_ serious about us having a good time!"), and a single, purple butterfly fluttered softly to land on the ring.

Chloe softly nudged Max into action, and she reached over into her purse.

* * *

 _Photo submitted by Max Caulfield,_ _"_ _Pricefield_ _"_ _2013_

 _The butterfly effect. You've all heard of that, right? You don't need to have seen the movie to know what it is; I haven't. And you probably don't need to, any sci-fi time travel movie will tell you. Step on a butterfly in the past, and the future is altered, usually for the worse, and by 'worse', I mean total chaos and utter destruction. Of course, that is only applicable in the same existence as time travel. You can't step on a butterfly and just take notes in the differences on a future that hasn't happened yet, compared to a future that would've occurred._

 _Still, it's fun to think about, and I wouldn't have such an imagination today if I didn't entertain the notion. It's an indecipherable breed of truth and fantasy. It's even absurd, and scary, trying to describe it; think of how many choices you make in a single day, starting from what time you think to wake up, to what time you fall asleep. Every single second in-between and after is a factor, waiting to be decided by you. And yes, sometimes those factors don't leave much of a choice for you. Sometimes, choices are taken out of our hands._

 _Once, I wasn't given a choice what I wanted. I thought I did; and I tried to make the best of it, but I couldn't. No one could've, I'm starting to realize. And that's okay. I took the option that wasn't given to me. Keyword: 'Took.'_

 _You've heard this speech before; life is full of choices. But they will never tell you how shitty those choices could be. Take the butterfly, for example. It chose to be where you next wanted to place your foot, but it didn't choose to be stepped on. Perhaps you and the butterfly have intertwined destinies?_

 _Who's to say that if you didn't step on the butterfly, that the world wouldn't end in chaos? What if you were meant to step on the butterfly to maintain balance?_

 _That's a morbid thought, isn't it?_

 _I'm not going to suppose a theory that if you didn't step on the butterfly, the apocalypse arises. Well, more astutely, I'm not going to theorize exactly how it got to that point. But it does pose a very interesting question; would you step on the butterfly?_

 _I wouldn't. And I'd never look back. End of the world be damned. Because, at the beginning of the day, I made the choice to do things my way, and to live with those consequences. And I can't go back and change that. I don't think anyone reading this would go out of their way to step on it, would they? Would you? You couldn't possibly conjecture that the world might be doomed if you decided not to. You look at one of the most beautiful, graceful creatures on this earth and think the world would be a better place without it? No. Of course not._

 _The butterfly chose to be under your foot. You can choose whether to step on it or not. That's your choice. And eventually a force, whether it be an equal, or something bigger than yourself, will have that same choice for you._

 _And, maybe naively, Karma is what I fully expect. But it doesn't always happen. Bad things can happen to good people, and good things can happen to bad people. It's all about the choices you make, yes, but it also depends on the choices others make. The world doesn't revolve around you; everyone revolves around each other._

 _So, please choose wisely. For everyone else's sakes._

 _And, looking at the picture in this article, that's been affectionately named 'Pricefield', there's no doubt in my mind that I made all the right choices._

 _So, this is the biggest choice you will make in the school newspaper today, I promise. But since I have a medium to release such big news, why not put it on the headline of the paper? I'm on my way out, anyways. I've got nothing to lose. Also, Chloe dared me to. You know how that happens._

 _But I want to take you all with me. So - I, Maxine Caulfield, am engaged to the amazing Chloe Price. Consider this our official announcement, and our official RSVP. Please contact Kate Marsh, my planner and Maid of Honor, and Courtney Wagner, Chloe's MoH, for more information._

 _Now, I'm sure many of you can see the problem we'll have to go through, while a few others can only see the immediate problem that is my personal life choices. Luckily, I'm not asking for the latter's compassion. In three weeks, a certain law will be presented that will affect the entire state of Oregon; a certain law that can make things a little simpler for us to progress in life. Thank you, each and every one of you, for signing our petition, but we could always use more. We are today's youth, and Oregon will fall to our will one day - let's show them that we are capable of being on the right side of history, and make a huge difference from the get-go._

 _From the prideful supporters, to the casual believers, to the hardcore rebels of the cause: It's a choice that can change lives, and not just mine and Chloe's. And I won't say that it's the end of the world if it's turned down, either. It wouldn't even be the end of our world. We could go to Washington, or California - It doesn't matter, short-term._

 _But nothing would make me happier than to marry my best friend in my own home, surrounded by all of my friends and family, and to be recognized as legit for doing so. From one Oregonian to another, it's my home, and it's where I want to be. Would you give that up? Would you stand for what you believe in?_

 _We didn't choose to be in this position. I can only beg that you take one step to the side, and allow us to live our lives. The Butterfly Effect - you've all heard of that, right? It's all about making choices._

 _Graduating Class of 2013, I tip my grape glass to you, courtesy of the bottle in the picture (because that's totally what it is, and you can't prove any different). Go make all the right choices._


	6. The Doe Effect

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all of your reviews, and your support. This chapter is dedicated to **Stelosnarcos** , my first $15 Patron. Thank you so much for your support. Of course, this chapter is also dedicated to every reader, and especially the reviewers, because you are all awesome.

Please enjoy the Fifth Chapter of One More Time, a Life is Strange Tale.

* * *

 **Episode Five - 1_L0V3_My_i3u-H-erf1y**

Max hesitated before she pressed 'Enter', staring at the ornate password. Chloe could see her inner panic. "Babe, are you sure? I _don_ _'_ _t_ need to know. I can see it's eating you up inside. You don't _have_ to show me."

"That's the problem, Chloe." She quickly tapped the keyboard and spun around in her swivel chair. "I do. It's _my_ choice. You _deserve_ to know."

"At what cost, Max? You told me I might hate you for reading this."

She stared off to someplace behind her betrothed from the chair, and thought to herself. "I've been selfish for a long time. You helped me realize that the night you proposed. I always thought about what's the best choice for me, or the best choice for us. Never, once, did I think about what _you_ would want."

"Max..." she gently leaned against the arms of the chair, staring intensely into her eyes. "Don't make me sound like such a cliché, sappy bitch, but what do you _think_ I want? Who did I propose to? Who do I dream of, think of, sleep with, all at the same time? I know I can be a bit... doubtful, but I know, and you know how much we mean to each other. I don't want to destroy that." She reached over, and before Max could blink, she clicked the 'X' at the top right of the monitor. "I can't."

"I'm a time-traveler!"

"...What?"

"See? It's all fiction! Now, you can read it, right? It doesn't mean anything."

"A fiction that you've been writing since you had that dream ten years ago?" She clicked the 'Cancel' button on the confirmation popup. "I've always been curious about what you've done on this computer, but I've never tried to peek. Not once. I knew you'd tell me when you were ready. It's funny; now I don't think I want to. But you win this round, Caulfield. _If_ that's your real name."

"It's not." Chloe blinked, and looked back at her fiancée. "Sorry. Bad joke. I'll shut up now."

"No." She turned back to the computer. "If it's as bad as you say it is, I'm asking for clarification. Let me get the chair, and sit your pretty ass on my lap. And try not to distract me like you usually do."

* * *

Not one question was asked as Chloe perused Max's digital diary, reading every entry, or chapter, seeing every hand-drawn picture. What a fascinating story it told.

It was more in the form of a book, in a way, told in an almost diary-like format. Chloe read about a girl named Blue, and how she had never been the same after her father died. She had lost her best friend, Sam, and her mother re-married a... difficult man. They didn't get along well, and while Chloe couldn't sympathize, she could understand. She read how the girl began on a downward path, spiraling out of control.

Of course, she had asked herself multiple times why she would be angry at Max for whatever this was, but she could guess that Sam was based on Max. And really, with the liberties she was taking with everyone around her, there would be a number of people who could be offended.

It wasn't until Blue was shot, and Sam was able to reverse time, did the first puzzle piece fall into Chloe's mind. In her mind, Blue was more of a supporting character, but this was a unique spin on things. Still, the nagging feeling in her mind wouldn't go away. She continued to read about the adventure they had, from Blue giving her friend a camera from her father 'Billy', to Sam almost shooting a man in Blue's defense, to saving her from the train tracks.

More puzzle pieces started to fall as Sam slowly became the integral piece of the story. At some point, Max must've realized how difficult it was to write about someone who had a second-hand account on time-travel, never really witnessing the act. Blue wasn't even there to witness Sam save Kate from committing suicide.

Chloe examined that carefully. Was that an artistic choice? Or did Max have another reason for writing the scene that way?

It was almost like she was writing in code. Max, writing this over the course of many years, seemed like she just wanted to get her facts straight, and to not confuse certain events to the real life counterparts - events that Chloe recognized. But why?

Several pages down, Chloe figured it out. Blue was meant to be the main character of Max's story, but there were a ton of gaps missing. There were things actually happening around Sam, but it was skipped over in favor of Blue's woes.

Because it was all written by 'Sam'. Sam was trying to write her own story, in Blue's perspective. And she could tell that Sam, or Max, realized it wasn't working anymore. The second half of the 'book' began in first person, and line-by-line, Chloe felt compelled to rename the protagonist, to the actual writer herself.

When Sam prevented Blue's father from being killed, only to find her friend in a wheelchair, Chloe blinked as a random memory came to her - when she first got her truck, and Max printed out a signed certificate that said 'Shotgun for Life', and stitched it into the front seat with her permission.

There were a lot of these suspicious circumstances that she remembered, tied to this truck. She was very aware of Max's paranoia, on some degree. It didn't control her day at all, she was just more cautious than the normal person, or girlfriend.

She didn't bat an eye at the tale being based in Arcadia Bay, nor about the Lighthouse. But the name 'Jefferson' was familiar, and several of their school friends were in the story. The Prescotts were portrayed as almost comic book villains, despite her knowing nothing about them other than their wealth, and Kate being suicidal was more than a worrying twist for their friend, and a huge bastardization of character. She was sure the girl would not want to read something like this.

Really, the only unfamiliar names were Sam and Blue, and she could easily guess who Sam was based upon. And, seeing the fictional girl's description of Blue - not the physical description, but rather, Sam's overall devotion and opinion of her best friend - she had a sinking feeling who Blue could be. And it really sounded like she was getting the shit end of the stick.

So, there was the off chance that Blue's character was unabashedly some twisted version of Chloe, she eventually decided. While she didn't really see herself as a Wake-and-Bake kinda girl, and guns certainly weren't her comfort zone, and tattoos... well, they certainly wouldn't have been on her arm, despite telling Max that her body was a canvas, and that led to another artistic talent Max didn't know she had in watercolor painting, and left Chloe with a tickling fetish she didn't know she had.

Of all the characters in the journal/story, Max had taken the most liberties in this fiction with Chloe's assumed character. Still, her favorite color was indeed blue. Her mother, 'Joy', worked at the Four Seasons diner, and she had feelings for another girl, apparently named Amber. 'Blue and Amber', she finally noticed and noted out loud, and laughed.

Seriously, Max was terrible at aliases. She really didn't know how to straight up lie without keeping her facts in check.

That was the last time she laughed for the rest of the story. When she, or 'Blue', was shot and killed by a 'Mr. Jefferson', and Sam was taken to the Dark Room, the puzzle was complete.

A slow breath suddenly rushed out of her. This was a real fucking story, and the events behind it were more detailed than anything written in the media. Mark Jefferson's arrest and trial were the stuff of legend in Arcadia Bay, and Max had never seemed interested in the trials. Yet everyone could see how pleased she was when he was sentenced.

Jefferson. The name of Max's bully all those years ago. That was the final piece.

The final pages were read in silence, and Max appreciated the calm. It was hard to keep it all together, but that part was written a decade ago. Even she had gotten confused of the order of events while writing it. It was a terrifying, hectic barrage of emotions and timeline-mixing.

 ** _July 28, 2003 Diary Entry~_**

 _"Do you believe in Destiny, Chloe?"_

 _"Until it stopped working in our favor? Yeah."_

 _"Do you believe… do you think I can change it?"_

 _"I think you have to, Max. It's literally you and me versus Destiny." She sniffed. "And if we let all those people die, I don't think that's a point for us."_

 _I don't believe anymore. At this point, I really don't. Destiny, Fate, it's all bullshit._

 _But who am I to say what's real and what's not? For all I know, I'm a lab experiment floating in a pod, never to wake again in a drug-induced coma. That's the most logical way I can explain that whole week._

 _I realized then, that the only way to make that week seem like a dream, was to make my life a dream. It never happened. I will never forget that dream._

 _It's been one month since I left her. One month since I abandoned her - again. It was so hard to focus on that drawing board, my eyes were burning with so many tears. Chloe was hugging her knees in the other room._

 _I sent her away. Because she would have tried to stop me from doing what we'd both regret. Not the jump, but... well, I wanted to break the board. No shit, I almost did. I really didn't want to leave her, and do this._

 _But neither of us could live with the guilt of what that could've done._

 _We were in a cheap motel room in Los Angeles, on our last dollars of the money we stole from Principal Wells, and never gave to Frank, with a truck that got some major repairs. No doubt, we would've had to move in that truck. Then there's no chance what the future held for us._

 _And I still didn't care. At that moment, before I made the jump, I didn't give a shit about our future. I was just so tired of messing up the past. And I guess that was the lesson I was supposed to learn - live in the present, and deal with the future._

 _And I responded to that by making one final jump to the past._

 _I want to quote the last words of a dear friend I once had. Number One: Get You, and I succeeded at that if you're reading this. Number Two: Get Famous, and we can work on that together, if you've made it this far with me. Number Three: Get the fuck out of Arcadia Bay; for us._

 ** _Update: February 15, 2013_**

 _This place is something else entirely, now. And that has everything to do with the second request on the checklist. I didn't half-ass it, not for anyone, never for you._

 _Every time I see her blue hair in my dreams, I know I made the right choice. Because now, she can only remind me of the biggest mistake I made in the past, and that's being apart from you. When I first saw her again, I couldn't recognize her I didn't even know it was her when she was shot. When I see you, I feel at home. I almost feel like I never left._

 _Sam and Blue was the real alternate reality. This is the way it always should have been. And I - literally - couldn't have done any of this without you._

 _And now, we're getting married. I usually have an entry for everything - never a shortage of words out of me. I've got nada. And maybe, that's the point. Having superpowers wouldn't shut me up. You've always made me speechless._

 _I'm no Super Max. Not this time. But you'll always be my hero._

 _[Insert Groan Here]_

That was the end of the entries. There were several drawings on the page remaining - an epilogue, Chloe supposed. She recognized the changes before she could even finish reading them, seeing the sketches side by side. A familiar girl with blue hair covered in a black beanie looked back at her, next to her own reflection, and the two couldn't look more alike and _different_. She couldn't bring herself to keep looking at it. She instead chose to look a pretty, vibrant girl with cornflower hair that flowed down her back, next to the sketch of a prim, shy girl with an ornate bun and nervous eyes. She saw other hand-drawn pictures, the unrecognizable faces not having a corresponding picture next to them, and seeing Daniel DaCosta on the heavy side was obviously the other timeline.

 _Another timeline_. Honestly, it should have explained a lot. It would explain why Blade Runner always made her sad.

She looked at Max, the girl she had so long ago assumed was simply a Russian spy sent to infiltrate her life and report daily on her computer - or maybe just an extraterrestrial, learning their enemy and perfecting the art of human interaction before laying waste. _This_ explanation made things so much more complicated.

Chloe studied her lover, her head turned away. She gave a genuine smile. Perhaps, not so complicated.

Max was rocked out of the silence by Chloe's thigh, as she tried to get blood pumping back into her leg. "So..." she began slowly, and Max braced herself. "I... uh... you know, forgive me for not 'being there', but how the fuck did you fall in love with a girl that says 'hella' so much?"

The brunette had no clue what to say. She looked at her fiancée, and she couldn't even find disappointment, or even a touch of anger. All she could see was that beautiful smile, a smile that she had lived an entire life for another glimpse of.

The look slowly morphed into one of concern at her lover's expression. "Seriously? You go back and live through fucking _everything_ , sacrificing your own happiness, to figure out a way to save us all, knowing that you might break reality and time itself, after sacrificing them all, for _me_ , and you think I'll be mad at you because... **_what_** _, really_?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, and leaned against her fiancée. "I really didn't know what to expect. And I've been really good at expecting things for the last decade. Not knowing scares me. And the fact that I didn't know how _you_ , the girl I know better than anyone else, would react, _terrified_ me. 'Blue' would have felt manipulated."

"Blue had abandonment issues. Blue felt that the entire world was against her, and it probably was. You didn't manipulate me. You made the freaking world right again! You put away Jefferson, you knocked Sean Prescott out of power, and saved my life, even after - no offense to 'me' - the _stupid_ mistakes I apparently made. And I guess that would be the only reason I'm angry. My love for you wasn't _generated_. You never made a blatant move. You couldn't have pressured me into thinking you're cute, and you certainly didn't give me those dreams at night. No, what we have is real, but your love for me came pre-installed. I'm maybe sad I didn't do it myself. But the love you two shared... maybe it was more natural, in a way. You both didn't know how right you were for each other. But you didn't try to produce the same thing with me. You made something different." She reached up to pull at the thin blue streaks in her hair. "With homage to the original, I guess. But that was my choice, as it was the last time around. You didn't try to make me into that Chloe. _That_ would have been manipulating me. I became what I was raised to be - meant to be; a girl that loves her mom, her dad, and her best friend so fucking much."

Max sniffed, and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck. " _I_ _'_ _m so glad._ And I fell in love with what you've become. 'Blue' was so hard to get over, but you, Chloe... you're a different person. And I fell so much harder. It wasn't a love copied over for you. If I lost all my memories of my previous life tomorrow, it would all be the same. I love _you_. Not what you were. The fact that you believe me in all of this..."

"Your 'nightmare bully' clued me in. So he was a teacher in your time? I've always known him as the celeb with a summer home here. Now I know which house to burn down, huh?"

"Way ahead of you. I may or may not have a few of his expensive equipment in a vault for auction to go to his victims, and may have had an old friend do a bidding war for who gets to press the button that C-4's his house. That made a cool fifty grand."

"I imagine that went to charity as well. I wish I was there for that. Why sell his items, though? I know you want to be a world-famous photographer. Unless it hurts too much to use his crap?"

She kissed her cheek. "Trust me, Chloe. He hasn't scared me for a long ass time. And I haven't used his crap because compared to what I can afford, it _is_ crap. I've been busy."

"Oh, really? How busy? Busy enough to live in LA?"

Max allowed herself a moment of self-satisfaction before replying. "Enough to _buy_ LA. Or at least get it on a timeshare. I need to introduce you to that old friend."

 **~Ten Years ago~**

Eliza Fields was a nobody; less than, even. The way she saw the world, beautiful and bright and filled with potential, was not reflected back upon her. That was glaringly on display by the squashed box she sat on, and the tattered clothes on her back, sitting in the back alleyway behind the Two Whales Diner. But, while the world never truly appreciated her, she didn't let that keep her down.

If she did, she would have been dead a very long time ago.

"Hello, ma'am."

Eliza looked up to see a little girl with a neatly folded blanket. "Oh, you're the little girl that Joyce adores so. How are you, little one?"

Eight-year-old Maxine Caulfield grinned toothily. "I'm doing great, ma'am, but it's not about me. I'm fortunate."

"I wish I could tell you that fortune isn't all in life. But it's certainly most."

Max nodded, and handed her the blanket. "From what I've seen so far. Would you take it? The fortune, I mean?"

She studied the small girl. Generally, it was a cruel thing to say to a homeless woman. Still, the blanket was the most comfortable looking thing she had seen in years. The girl looked innocent enough, genuinely curious in the answer. "For a more comfortable life? Certainly. It's not hard to imagine that we all would. But I've found that money tends to create a life of its own once it gets ahold of you, and takes you places you'd never wanted to be." She shrugged. "Then again, I'm an old fool who'll never get the chance to face those problems, nor have I ever. So I'm the last one to give advice about riches."

For some reason, the girl seemed pleased. "On the contrary; I'm glad I did ask. Do you think I could give you some advice?"

Eliza didn't know what to expect when she nodded, but the curiosity got the better of her.

"I don't believe in Karma. But, sometimes, I believe in luck. I can't guarantee your luck will change, but if you believe in Karma, then I could be able to help you." She smiled impishly. "I hope to see you around."

The girl skipped away, far faster than the woman could come up with a reply.

She sighed. She was happy to see the positivity of today's youth, but also, somewhat heartbroken at the naivety.

Still, given the uncomfortably heavy and unnaturally comfortable blanket, she was willing to take the girl's words to heart.

She gently unfolded the blanket over her flattened cardboard seat, only to discover a full set of summer clothes, packaged in the middle.

Pinned to the beautiful royal blue blouse, was a ten-dollar bill, and a scrap of paper with hastily written numbers. Seeing a scrawl beneath the bill, she lifted it, far more curious at the words and their meaning.

 _Feeling Lucky? The Lucky Numbers are..._

 **~Present Day~**

"I originally considered blackmailing the Prescotts," Max admitted, now sitting in an ornate dining room with her lover, smiling at the way she looked around in awe, "before Sean skipped out, of course. But I do believe in Karma. Exclusively against me, anyway. Still, I've always had a gift for memory - which is why I'm here today. I remember my dad watching the lottery, and how he quit after that day. He was two numbers short of one of the biggest in the country's history. He won ten thousand dollars, but he couldn't stand seeing how close it was, and how it was ripped away from him. That power number he missed was adopted as his lucky number for a while."

Chloe was still trying to adjust to being in the home of Arcadia Bay's resident multimillionaire - a home her lover had the key to. "And, uh... you didn't help your dad?"

"I gave him another number to put on the ticket - his 'lucky' number. Just one number short gave them several hundred thousand - he was a lot less disappointed. That, along with selling the house here, gives them a good amount. Imagine their surprise when none of it goes to college."

"Wow. That's incredible. But... didn't that lottery get split to multiple winners? And wasn't the lottery only a few million?"

A regal-looking woman, someone the country knew by the name of Elizabeth Fields, made herself known, wheeling herself into the room. "It was, yes. You must be the amazing Chloe Price. Pleased to finally meet you."

"Oh!" The reality of what was happening had hit Chloe ever since she had seen her fiancée's tears of relief when she believed her. But she still didn't expect the woman who could have made the Prescotts her slaves with pocket change alone, to greet her as 'amazing.' "Um, Hi."

"Hello, Eliza," Max smiled, and Chloe couldn't help but notice how informal the greeting was. She was slowly beginning to accept that it was Max, and not Fields, who was the most powerful woman in Oregon. "Have you been well?"

"As well as a millionaire could be, darling." She stopped short of them, and after exchanging hugs with Max, like they were old friends, she continued. "I take it that you've been told of the investment?" After the two nodded, she folded her hands on her lap. "She gave me ten dollars; that's how it all started. Four of those dollars went to the lottery ticket, six for food at your mother's. And to believe, I was just hoping to put some trust in an optimistic girl. She found me sitting in the diner the next day, and we went together to turn in the ticket. I didn't even know it won until she told me. I was able to get a motel, and clothing and food, and she checked in every so often. I think it was a test. She gave me full control of my account. Contrary to the estate you're sitting in, I'm not materialistic. She helped me choose and build this place from the ground up.

"It wasn't long after that when Maxine introduced me to the stock market. A lot of them failed - as she wanted them to - but it was all essentially her money, not mine. I couldn't doubt her for a second, nor did I have reason to. I never considered asking any questions. I just knew this little girl was something special."

"I couldn't have anyone looking into it," Max explained to Chloe. "Winning the lottery of the biggest, at the time, jackpot already put a few eyes on us. We had to get rid of some of it to get under the radar for a while. Just another tragic story about a lottery winner wasting their jackpot in a matter of weeks, right? The news doesn't want to cover that - those lotteries fund the state, and you can't start discouraging people to play, talking about how you could lose millions - it's common, and that's something they don't want getting out. The stock market seemed like the fastest choice for us to lose enough that it would be tragic enough."

"And you made it back, I assume?"

Max Caulfield began to grin deviously. "For a while, we only had enough for Eliza to live comfortably, and for your swear jar tips. And it took a few years for it to happen, but it did; remember that time I asked you what 'A Facebook' or an 'Instagram' was, and you told me to get into the twenty first century?"

Chloe's mind shut down. There was only so much she could take.

She knew that Fields was a primary investor in social media sites from the very startup, funding them from day one, but she didn't exactly know what that meant.

"Fifteen Percent," Max whispered, and Chloe really wished she had gotten into weed like her other half had. "Each."

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Max looked amused. "I think I can front the tab on the swear jar this time."

"Max, this is... how... when... how... how much?"

"We sold last week," Max confided in her. "All of Facebook. Instagram, I'll keep a while longer. Of course, now that everyone knows, public company and all, our little town might never be the same again once news gets out, but... we're walking away with _billions_ , Chloe."

* * *

"What do we tell mom and dad?" Chloe, bless her heart, after stirring into consciousness, could only consider the _complications_ of such a wealth.

"The truth," Max muttered, stroking her beloved's hair with one hand, while fanning her with a thin book she found on the table. "The most honest truth I could come up with. We are both volunteers in the Big Brothers and Sisters Program. Not to brag, but we're a pretty damn good team together. We're practically Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny combined when we walk into the center, or more recently, Anna and Elsa - do you know how rare it is that Disney sends out costumes to people for advertisement, before a movie even comes out? They trust us to sell their next movie, Chloe, just by being ourselves. Disney's not the only backer, either - Eliza here took notice. She herself runs a program that takes underprivileged or orphaned youths and takes them under her wing, financing them through grade school, college and beyond. So far, The Fields Foundation has helped over two hundred kids across the state. Realistically, we've only stuck to Oregon for now. She likes what we've done, and wants us to continue her work, by vetting the kids that she wants to support next. That, in the process, makes us her sole heirs, seeing as she doesn't have a next of kin. Her 'special friend,' Samuel, doesn't seem to care about the money, but I'm generous."

The Native American smiled. "Thank you for introducing me to such a kind soul."

Chloe blinked. "And it's that easy?"

"Honestly, I thought it was a pretty complicated ruse at the time. All I could think of was that Biff Tannen didn't have shit on me."

"Max, I understand why you held this from me. I do. But mom and dad... I can't stand to see them working every day, and knowing that they could have retired by now..."

"Butterfly, why do you think my parents left me in your parents' care? Our college fund is _set_ , even if Blackwell isn't an option. They get monthly checks from 'my parents', and Miss Fields is considered a personal friend of the family. My parents know that much, and allows her to send your parents the check under their names. I think part of them still feels guilty that I'm not with them, but they know it's for the best. The checks from Eliza go directly into the diner, and William's Junkyard, and bought your truck. Your parents told me not to tell you at the time, thinking my parents told me, and I never looked much into it, because I couldn't tell you, not yet. We went to Paris with it, as a family. Your mom may be working in a diner, but she doesn't need to; she wants to. Even on slow weeks, she's always given us bonuses, right? I imagine they both wanted it to be a surprise for you, or us. We've never really struggled to get anything in life. And, I'm thinking, we needed to learn the value of hard work."

Chloe could see where Max was going with this train of thought. "So they did it for my sake? Or for theirs?"

Max shrugged. "Both. Your family - our family - we've never _needed_ anything. And we spend so much time with each other, I think Joyce really likes to see you work, to see us hang out, and all three of us enjoying each other's company. William... well, I think William's a hoarder."

That got a laugh out of the strawberry blonde. "Okay, Max, okay. I concede. So now that I see how wide this conspiracy spans, is there anything else you think I might be mad about?"

Max gave a respectful nod to Eliza, before hugging her again, and left the room with her fiancée. "There is something else," she muttered as they got back into their truck - in a personal garage of classic cars, and Chloe was pretty sure even Miss Field's tastes weren't that old. A question for another day. "It's pretty big."

"Surprise me."

"That whole 'End of the World' thing that started all of this; I still don't know if that's going to happen or not."

"When?"

"October eleventh. This year."

Chloe sighed. "Okay."

"That's it? Okay?"

"It's far from the most unbelievable thing I've heard all day. Nothing apocalyptic has happened yet, right? I'm gonna agree with you, and say it's not going to happen this time around. Frankly, this makes things easier for me. Now we have a date for our wedding."

"...I love you so much, Chloe."

"And now, more than ever, I believe the 'hella' out of that. Am I saying it right?"

* * *

Four hours. Four hours after Max and Chloe sent in their applications, they got a text from the Blackwell scholarship office. The words 'Congratulations' and 'Full Scholarship' were pretty vivid in both texts, even if they were heading into the 'Seniors Only' school as graduates of their own high school. They played fast and loose with the ages, really. There were many questions about how everyone knew each other, and old graduates, for a one-year academy.

Still, Max remembered the processing being quite a few 'business days', namely a few weeks. Apparently, Blackwell had been watching the both of them closely. She had made more of an impact than she thought.

She just hoped that everything was at least vaguely familiar.

So many things were changing, specifically, around Chloe and her. They just got... stronger, together. She had so many questions about her alternate life, and the differences made. "I knew you did that thing too well," she said cheekily after being told of Max's final days in the other life with her alternate self, intimately, before going back in time. Really, their sex life was the least personal, and the easiest to discuss.

But while Chloe may have taken the news well, about... everything... she felt that her parents definitely owed her an explanation for the buckets of money they were hoarding.

Frankly, William and Joyce were overwhelmed at their daughter and future daughter-in-law's prospective future when they told them, showing them some permission slip on the stationary of Elizabeth Fields. Even as Max had told them long ago that her inheritance was quite hefty, they still wanted to contribute to the fortune with the unknown amount - the trust fund seemed a bit pointless, now.

And Max was right, when it came to the reasoning. Their jobs made them happy, and they weren't ready to give that up. Joyce served her breakfasts and daytime meals at near dirt-cheap prices, and William loved using the tools and equipment at the junkyard for the chance to get his hands on something. Apparently, a fire had been lit under him ever since the family had finally completed painting the house.

Looking closely at the couple, Max realized that they were the same happy pair she had seen in the photo, all those years ago, when Joyce was still pregnant with Chloe; the photo still hung in the hallway. In the other realities, she had no choice but to work, and it gave her a great deal of stress. This time around, not only did she have helpful daughters, but she still had her high school sweetheart by her side.

It was surreal how much people hated something when forced to do it, yet can't get away when so many other options were available. Never once had Max rejected the idea of photography, even as it practically contributed to destroying her sanity.

"I can't believe you kept hinting at wanting a laptop for Father's Day last year," Chloe complained, very mindful of the fact that she and Max had gone half-and-half for the gift. Unfortunately for her, that was the best example she could think of. She really didn't care about materialistic things, upon reflection. It wasn't that they never had money problems - she never even wanted anything. The steady paycheck helped, but, she was remiss to admit, the value of hard work, really actually _meant_ something.

Did she still want to be an artist now that she was a billionaire several times over? Of course. Was she going to be just as determined and focused in her goal as she always had? Easily. Was that what Max had planned? It was hard to say. But she loved her all the more for it.

Life was strange. And, compared to Max's life, she felt like she had the least worries, and was the least qualified to think such a thing. But, there it was.

* * *

The Pricefield Art Gallery was a rather expensive graduation gift, proposed by Arcadia High in association with Blackwell, and funded by Arcadia Bay's prideful natives, Elizabeth Fields and Katherine Prescott. Even Max didn't know about the building's purpose, only seeing the massive establishment being built instead of what Max used to recall as yet another Prescott Hotel Area, or maybe whatever Pan Estates was supposed to be responsible for.

This was _so much better_ than the Super Starbucks she had hoped for.

And both she and Chloe were given a giant pair of scissors to cut the ribbon. Seemed like the whole town was old school, not that they were complaining. Their graduation was held on the front lawn in front of the ribbon, across the street of the High School. Max stood before all of them as their valedictorian, Chloe beside her as the Student Body President.

Max had long ago stopped comparing the two Chloes. While they had similar mannerisms, this reality was more related to the Chloe who had perfect grades, who had almost accepted a scholarship to France before getting into a car accident.

Still, it blew her mind on an atomic level, and she couldn't be prouder.

The future was as unpredictable as she thought it was, and as bright as she hoped it would be. They were right all those years ago; Max and Chloe, with their powers combined, could take over the world, time travel or not. Arcadia Bay was enough for the two. For now.

Chloe seemed to read her mind, and smirked. Max almost couldn't finish her speech, and she picked up William Price's analog camera from the podium to hide her nervousness. Luckily, this part was planned out.

She smiled out at the audience. She had come a long way from the timid, uninspired Max of yesteryear. "I try to take a photo as much as I can. Since my future father-in-law gave me this camera ten years ago, I don't think I've missed a day. Every day is a new memory, and I want to be able to cherish them all. The camera lets you capture that moment in time. I want to look back on this day and know that this amazing time wasn't a dream. Each and every one of us, we waited for this day, and while we all look to the future, our pasts are where we see the moments that changed us, and made us better. Our past is where we learned our mistakes. Our pasts set us up for the future. I want to remember that. I want to remember all of you, today.

"So, here's what I propose; the greatest yearbook picture ever. Don't move. You might regret it." She aimed, and without much preamble, took the photo. "Ladies and gentlemen, the first picture to go into the art gallery." She pulled the picture and shook it. "It will take up an entire wall of the gallery, and everyone is expected to sign their name on the masterpiece." She grinned impishly at the audience. "I don't think any of you would've forgotten today, but I've always made it a point in life of making sure everyone is grateful for what they have now. And for some, all they have are their memories. It truly is the little things we do in life that makes us who we are. The big decisions don't happen if we neglect the little ones, much like this picture would just be an empty lawn, if you didn't decide to come here today."

She looked over to her beaming girlfriend, and returned the smile. "We didn't know about this museum until a few days ago. We didn't even know who submitted our photo for the competition. And when our photo won, to be displayed as the first portrait in the 'Pricefield' Art Gallery - well, we were pretty shocked. Thank you, Miss Fields and Missus Prescott, for this. Chloe and I, and everyone here, we won't forget what you've done for all of us. We won't forget what _all of you_ have done for us. Thank you for accepting _us_ , and making me your valedictorian. This little photo, I guess, is a small way of giving back."

Max fidgeted in her black gown, before, being as casual as she could, flipping her tassel to the other side of her cap. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present Arcadia Bay High School's graduating class of 2013!"

She watched as the caps were tossed in the air, and heard a click next to her. She looked over at Chloe and smiled, watching her take several photos of the celebration with her phone. "C'mere, Madame President," she pleaded, and Chloe didn't hesitate to get pulled against her girlfriend and meet her in a passionate kiss, filming the audience with her other arm, blocking the kiss with her own phone, flashing anyone who dared to look. The hoots and hollers, the oohs and awes, the cheers and applause - it said enough for a lifetime.

* * *

"Is it everything you'd ever hoped for?"

Max shook her head. "Better."

It felt right at home, lying in the Prescott Dorms, in a giant room all to herself and her roommate, her lovely fiancée. They had always shared a bed, and this time was no different, but for some reason, it felt more... _official_ , to be in a room with only one, giant bed. Maybe it was out of respect for her guardians that the two never decided to push their twin beds together, or maybe they liked the tight fit. Still, they enjoyed the comfort, and years of sharing the small bed always made sure they were never more than a few inches apart.

"How so, Doe?"

"Well... Victoria's not a bitch this time around. She's actually really... personable."

"I noticed that, too. Do you think it's an act? She could just respect people who have more money than she does."

"In alternate reality number one, I think we were best friends. But here even she and Kate gets along well enough, which totally mind-fucks me."

"And Nathan? Do you think this one isn't going to pull a gun on me?"

Max grimaced. "I remember his relationship with his sister last time around. I think she's been a really good influence on him. I heard that she never left Arcadia to travel. I don't know much about Katherine, but Kristine Prescott should have him on the right path. He certainly didn't look like a psycho. But Chloe, I need you to promise me, if you ever feel uncomfortable around him - "

"Of course. But seriously, he's just another stranger I met in the past week. He and 'Blue' had problems. 'Chloe' hasn't done anything to him, or vice versa." She tried to remember the rest of the characters of the story. "And Warren?"

"I've already got a list of girls to set him up with if things don't progress as they should with Brooke. If not Stella, then Taylor. Dana looked interested." She paused at Chloe's meaningful look. "My Butterfly; I am very publicly, clearly, unabashedly out of the closet. I'm also engaged. I don't think that _anything_ can send a better message than that."

Chloe grinned, reaching up to stroke the reddish-brown hair of the girl whose head was lain across her lap. "I'd be happy to send one out if he makes a move on you."

"One: he wouldn't. We haven't even met. Two: I'm pretty inspired enough to give one myself, thanks."

"Just offering." The grin never left her face. "So, any significant changes?"

"No monster teaching my photography class, of course." It still disgusted her how much she had a crush on that man. He was the sole reason she had wanted to attend Blackwell, so long ago. But that brought up an interesting query. "There are more people attending here than the last time. But he was the biggest selling point. People are coming from all over the country to this school for... what? Who?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You know, for how brilliant you are, I sometimes forget why I gave you the name 'Doe Eyes.' You're so fuckin' innocent, it's adorable."

Max blinked owlishly (or rather, doe-ishly) at the implication. "What? _Me_?!"

"You. Us. We have an Art Gallery built in our name, Max, and it's a tourist point already. Your photos and my paintings regularly get into the city's paper. Do you realize how many weddings we've had to attend in the past month alone? God, I swear I'm bringing back the 'couple' portraits in a big way, and they always end up asking you to be in the portrait with them. I had to put up on the site that it wasn't an option." She grinned down at her lover. "The legend of Super Max and her partner in crime, Cosmic Chloe, have only escalated over the years, maybe twice as fast in the last months. I'm actually starting to grow on the idea of staying here in Arcadia. This place has done so much for us."

Max considered the concept. Their names were out there, certainly. Their online gallery was garnering plenty of attention as well. And, of course, the gallery was now a popular tourist destination in Arcadia Bay, and Chloe and her having their own wing of their best work gave her no small amount of pride. But _that_ much attention? "Really?"

Chloe tilted her head. "Only one way to find out, I think. I have an idea."

* * *

Principal Wells loved the idea. It went without saying that Eliza Fields signed off on it, and in a matter of days, the monthly Pricefield Scholarship Submission Contest began.

The 'scholarship' part was Max's idea, but the rest was Chloe's: at the end of the month, Arts Majors students were required to turn in a photo, or a photo of their submission, whether it be a painting, a sculpture, or any art of their choosing. The winner's submission would be added to the Gallery for two years, and all fees waived during their tutelage at Blackwell.

The 'required' part was also Max's idea. Unfortunately, Mark 'POS' Jefferson was still a decent teacher, and had at least taught her one thing - there was no point of being an Arts Major, if you weren't going to take advantage of getting your name out there.

Being the unofficial leader of the Vortex Club - or so everyone seemed to consider her - made her feel like she had sold out, in some way, like the first alternate version of her. Then again, that Max didn't appreciate her parents, and shunned all her friends, and was, quite frankly, according to her texts, a total bitch in her opinion. At least, this time around, she had become friends with all, or at least, most parties involved. There was still a little bit of hipster Max in her, after all - her music tastes were no different, she was still a sci-fi geek (and yes, after all these technical years, she was adamant in her belief that Spirits Within was one of the best sci-fi movies of all time), and she had even taken up skateboarding again, if only to get from one place to another. The more advanced skate-heads didn't accept her, but they still acknowledged her as a non-poser. Really, there wasn't too much a difference, she was just more outgoing. And filthy rich, as Chloe reminded her, which definitely put them at the helm in the more 'prestigious' crowds. And, also according to Chloe, they were looked upon pretty highly, even as they were proven to not flaunt the riches they had.

Chloe considered it as a sort of ironic justice, embracing the leadership of the Vortex Club, despite the non-affiliation with Blackwell. The two having rarely gone to many parties that Max wasn't commissioned as a photographer for, she relished the thought of hosting one every couple of weeks.

The biggest physical change to Blackwell was the lack of desecration, and Max, for a moment, felt incredibly out of the loop no longer having the graffiti to read. The markings on the bathroom tiles were practically her news feed before, her gossip without communication. A plus and a minus, she supposed. The Academy finally looked as prestigious as it was touted to be. That 'freedom of expression', this time around, was no more. This time around, she had to look for the original gossip source - actual friends who were in the know, and she had plenty of those.

More or less, everything looked to be relatively normal; better than, even. Really, the only problem was Nathan, and it wasn't even his fault - this time. He was a model student, and he was so chill, and easygoing around others. But Max didn't forget easily, as she had proven time and time again. It was difficult trying to forget that past, and accept that Nathan ultimately recognized Max as the owner of the school. He wasn't raised his entire life thinking that the Prescotts owned Blackwell; sure, they donated, but the biggest contributor was, of course, Elizabeth Fields, and it was since announced that she and Chloe were her surrogate daughters.

It went without saying that everyone at Blackwell deserved the desks that they sat in, in this lifetime and the last - It was just no longer a popularity competition on deciding who the best was. Now, it was a friendly contest, filled with students who just wanted to do their best, and get noticed in the world. And Max and Chloe had made it quite clear that they were _not_ girls to be sucked up to, but willing to be impressed by the talent presented.

She ran a hand through her reddish-brown hair while she took a sip of her water. Once she made her run back to the dorm, she needed a shower in a major way. Then, she had to water Lisa ("But not too much!") and get ready to meet up with Kate for tea, and discuss the Meals on Wheels foundation they had started up together back when they were juniors in high school. Well, Kate was actively running it, Max was mostly in the category of 'devoted volunteer and partner'. The blonde looked so amazingly happy, seeing such a positive reaction to her foundation, tears almost came to the time-traveler's eyes.

God, she loved this life.

She spun around and began her jog back, a small bit upset that Chloe couldn't join her - she made these runs go by so much quicker - but she knew the reason; their wedding was coming up fast, and she was chatting with Courtney, Dana and Victoria, planning out some aspects of it that she and Kate might've missed.

Their wedding.

Their. _Fucking_. Wedding.

She stopped running for a moment. She felt dizzy every time she thought about it, and not in a reality-breaking, nose bleeding way, but in an insanely giddy, 'this should've been the strangest thing she'd ever have to deal with' way. Shaking her head, with a massive grin, she took off once more.

Chloe had begged her off this particular meeting, and Max had out loud assumed a bachelorette party. Chloe smirked, stating that if anything of the sort were planned, it'd be public news tomorrow. They were both shocked at how big the news apparently was around the school. Their engagement article, while garnering all kinds of attention on a state level and slightly beyond, wasn't expected by either of the girls to spark a bit of a movement, and the actual passing of a law. All she was originally worried about was Kate's opinion, considering her religious background and all, and they were the best of friends today, second only to Chloe. If anyone had a problem, they kept quiet about it.

There were several people that she hadn't ran into so far in this timeline, people she didn't know the fate of. Considering Rachel's relationship with Jefferson, it was entirely possible that she never went to Blackwell. She didn't attend Blackwell to further her modeling career, after all - there were no classes for that - she was looking for a photographer that could further her career for her. And Frank, well, if there was no Rachel, then he had no reason to live in Arcadia Bay, specifically. He had a mobile home for a reason. She had read about a bunch of abused animals being rescued. She wished him luck in his alternate life.

David Madsen was the real missing piece. She had no idea where he was, and that worried her. David had saved her life, and she wanted to return the favor, but how was she supposed to when she couldn't even locate him?

Fortunately, that, along with her ( _fucking!_ ) wedding, were the only sources of stress she had at the moment. A lifetime ago, she had gone to the bathroom to wash her face in the mirror and make sure she 'didn't look like a total loser.'

She shuddered, mid-run. Without Chloe in her life, her self-esteem was shit. Her confidence had been in the pits ever since she had left for Seattle. And she was positive that the problem didn't only apply to her at the time. Blackwell was noticeably better, but what really mattered was the students.

A small drone flew over her head, and she smiled and waved as it flew ahead of her.

With so many changes transpiring around her, it was sometimes pleasant to see that some things could stay the same.

* * *

Max had truly underestimated how much her betrothed liked to tempt fate. Sometimes, it was distressing to see how some things could stay the same. " _Really_ , Chloe? The _End of the World_ Party?"

"Uhhh... I can explain?"

She sat up in the bed and crossed her arms. "I'm sure you can. And I'm sure it's a really good reason. What I'm worried about is the chaos theory."

"Don't be so morbid, Max! It's nothing to worry about - really! It was Victoria's idea, but I couldn't exactly shoot it down because I'm superstitious! I didn't have a legit reason to say no, but I managed to change the day, because, you know... _wedding_. It won't even be on the eleventh this time around, it'll be next week."

Chloe could tell that the fact didn't impress her fiancée in the slightest. "I promise this isn't some cold, weird twist of fate. We _talked_ about this. It won't happen. I promise."

"I... I worry, Chloe."

"You shouldn't. Nothing's happened. Time isn't ripping itself apart. The moon hasn't moved, or doubled up, or blown to pieces. Not one bird has fallen from the sky that I've seen. And we're... we're fucking perfect, Max. I haven't been doomed, or crashed, or accidentally shot myself, or had someone shoot me, or hit by a train or... well, we did it. You did it, Max. You saved me. You saved Arcadia Bay."

Max sniffed, on the verge of tears. "And... if we didn't?"

"Then we protect them." Chloe reached up and gently pulled her head to her chest. "I'll protect you this time, Doe. This fucking storm, if it comes, won't stop us. I don't care if it takes an eternity.

"And... if all else fails. We'll use the storm shelter. You, me, and everyone else we love. And we rebuild from there. Should only take a couple billion, right?"

She shuddered. She had promised herself to never step into that room again: The Dark Room. But she'd do anything to save Chloe, and the friends she had rediscovered and coveted. "We'll need to expand the place."

"They have. That's what Victoria's told me. The Prescotts turned it into an official party pad. It can fit at least a couple hundred, so I hear."

The younger girl blinked. That could work. But a depressing thought suddenly came to her. "So, that means we should have the End of the World party - "

" - _Nope_ , not gonna happen. You're a little busy on the eleventh, remember? Nothing's gonna change that date. Apocalypse or not." She grimaced. "Okay, we move it to the bunker if there _is_ an apocalypse, but you get what I'm saying. Max, I'm making it a mission, and all of this should go without saying, but we're not getting married in a fucking torture room. That just gives too many bad vibes going into our future. I'm going to be a Caulfield surrounded by natural sunlight, and maybe a tree, and you're just going to have to get used to the idea."

She sniffed. "Caulfield-Price."

"We'll talk about it. Oh! Speaking of which, and hear me out; I heard from an old friend today."

"Really? Someone I don't know?"

"Don't be jealous. I'm shocked, too. I think I told you about him, once. I never met him outside the diner. We talked a few times. He's like some drifter, sometimes in town. Scary, intense looking fucker, but nice enough. He heard the news from California, where he's preaching, and he wants to officiate one of the first gay weddings in Oregon, and the very first in Arcadia. I wanted to talk to you about it first. Did we have anyone else in mind?"

She shook her head. Kate's dad was sick, so that eliminated him. She had recently gotten a call from Doctor Bill, but that guy was a tool. "What's his name?"

"You know, I never got a last name out of him - I guess I have one of his cards somewhere, he wants to thank me for introducing him to 'his calling'. And to believe, a couple of years ago, he was breaking a cup of coffee on my cleaning shift. And to believe I almost condemned a future preacher to hell. And he actually did when I told him that! Real... strange dude."

"As long as he's mellowed out since then, I don't see a problem with it. At least we won't have that awkward speech of asking preachers to marry us. I'm pretty sure that if they wanted to, they would've asked already."

"Ditto. Alright, I'll give Rev Dave a call."

* * *

" _Life is Strange_ by Max Price-Caulfield."

"So whaddya think?"

"I see you like the last name choice. So what's the book about that I _guess_ I wrote?"

"Not sold on the last name yet, first of all. But this book? Eh, it's a bit of a science fiction. It's got the classics - a _timeless_ love, pun intended, one of the most powerful stories of friendship ever told, and maybe a _little bit_ of time travel. Just a smidge." She smirked at her girlfriend, whose jaw was somewhat slacked at the news. "I was gonna make it a 'choose your own adventure' story, but I'd need a volume set. Not a bad idea, actually..."

"Chloe? You're not going to publish that, are you?"

"Course not. I don't want my fiancée getting probed by the government. That's my job. I cleaned it up a little bit, and changed some names and locations up a little more to protect the innocent on the test copy, but I wasn't going to release it - not without your permission, anyways. But this one's special - it's got all the right names and places, and it's the only one that reveals the whole truth. It's a nice story for ourselves, right? I know how much you prefer hardcovers, so I made up an early wedding present. We have all the money in the world, so I figured I should go old school one more time before it gets to my head, right?" Her blue eyes softened. "You worked on this thing for so long and everything this book represents - on me, on us, _everything_. I think, at the very least, you deserve to get to look at it, and really appreciate this. It's my way of framing a really impressive picture. This is just a week of your life, a long time ago, Max. Imagine what we could do with a lifetime?"

The physically younger girl hugged the leather-bound book to herself. She even took a whiff of the fresh pages. She blushed at her girlfriend's smirk. "You're subtly trying to tell me to work on a sequel?"

"I gotta admit; I enjoyed this story, especially after I fixed it up. But I can live with a great big picture book."

"That's an album we're not giving to the gallery, Butterfly."

"Hm. _Butterfly_. That would've been a good title."

* * *

Maxine Caulfield looked around the silent clearing, rubbing her bare arms, far from feeling a chill. She had no idea how Kate had managed to talk her into a strapless gown. Her pure white gown was comfortable enough, as far as gowns go, but the strapless part made her feel naked.

She was glad she didn't step on the gown on her way down the aisle, it would've slipped off her slight frame and she probably would have walked on for at least a few more steps, ignorant of her state of undress.

God, she was a nervous wreck. And it had nothing to do with the supposed end of the world. Sure, she was seeing double at the moment, but that was pure nerves. She hoped.

It had taken a lot of convincing, a lot of distracting, and a lot of busywork to take her mind off the supernatural worries, and more on her regular, every day worries. Chloe, Kate, Dana, Taylor, Courtney, and Victoria took on the challenge with grace, and the circle of friends got ready for a trip to Seattle for Max's eighteenth birthday.

She had never marathon-shopped before, nor had she ever gone on a road trip, but both were experiences she would love to do again. And while Chloe's truck was a tight fit, it was surprisingly easy to convince them all to double up on the rides, even as Taylor and Victoria jokingly accused the couple of converting them.

Still, she absolutely had to take the photo of Victoria sitting on Kate's lap. She would cherish that one. When she had promised Kate a girls-only trip so long ago, she didn't picture it going like this. The girls were completely willing to do the tea-shop tour, and even more enjoyed it. Seeing Kate happy gave her a thrill like nothing else, and the girls found the positivity infectious.

Of course, Max had kept Chloe all to herself, even when they switched after the pit stop in Portland. And being the observant girl she was, she couldn't help but notice some of the interactions with the others. It truly fascinated her to see the bonding process happen right before her. Chloe, while Kate was driving, announced to the girls in the back that since it was pretty obvious that most of them were skipping the college experience, she advised that they get their experimentation out of the way. Dana made a weird face, and the girls laughed, and Max thought that was the end of it. And she was thankful; an all-girl orgy, while _very_ distracting from her _other_ worries, wasn't in the cards for this timeline, and she didn't mind one bit.

The girls had chosen a hotel room, while Chloe and Max decided to spend at least one night at her parents' house. It was a tearful reunion, as expected, and combined with sitting down the fiancée in an 'official' capacity, the family felt more together than they had in years. Video calls could only do so much.

The girls took a tour all around Seattle, and set the entire next day aside for wedding arrangements and garments.

The second day, Max wasn't a big fan of, but it was necessary for today to happen. Today, she stood in her beautiful, silk and satin, all-white gown, waiting for her wife-to-be to come down the aisle.

It was a beautiful, open-air arrangement, and she was ultimately glad she wasn't there for the meeting that decided the setting - next to the lighthouse, overlooking the seaside town. Their lily and petunia encrusted arc was staked on the cliff side, and she stood under it, just taking in the atmosphere.

Arcadia was normally a quiet, easily traversable town, so the sounds of cars didn't make it to her ears, but by the looks of the crowd before her, she had to wonder if there were any cars left in the urban area at the moment. Rows upon rows of friends, family, graduates of their high school, perfect strangers, children that the couple had mentored together, and even some press were sectioned off to the side. Of course, no flash photography allowed. Chloe was adamant about that, and that made Max smile.

Speaking of...

Her dress was blue - as blue as the streaks in her strawberry blond hair - and the bouquet she held were of lavender roses. Her blue eyes were so piercing, and bright, and shining, and Max thought it was contagious, as water pooled her vision of the specimen before her. She blinked it away, and just stared in wonderment.

She hadn't asked for many things, and although she had actively worked for it, she knew she could do without. The sight before her, however, reminded her of exactly why and how all of this happened in the first place.

Chloe Price, in all her stunning glory, made her way down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father, William Price.

The world could end, right at that very moment, and she wouldn't have even noticed. And Max was finally beginning to accept that it _wouldn_ _'_ _t_.

They both chose to wear gowns that weren't too frilly and complicated to put on or especially take off, but the price tag wasn't a factor. So it was with a relative quick pace that she was led down the aisle, and the two were holding hands, waiting for the minister to speak.

And Max had a hell of a shock when she found out who their minister was to be a few days ago.

"Dear family and friends," the voice of David Madsen filled the clearing, "we're gathered here to celebrate and honor the union of Chloe Price and Maxine Caulfield..."

For once, Maxine had no idea what the future held for her. She had no idea what challenges could come her way, or what good she would do in the future, or even bad. She was absolutely clueless as to the far tomorrow, and the choices that would lead to it.

"You bet your ass I do," Chloe whispered raspily, before clearing her throat. "I mean, _I do_."

But nothing more than this very moment made her certain; she wasn't alone this time, and she'd never have to be again. The place where they discovered their pirate kinship, was the place where they would begin their greatest, and hopefully, least exciting adventure yet.

And she had yet another memory to replace on this day; the air grazing against her goosebumped skin, the crowd that seemed so far off from her clapping and cheering for their union, her new wife's soft cheeks against her fingertips.

Never before could she really _feel_ Chloe's lips on her own like she did today, an absolute turnaround from that stormy night so many years ago.

As they separated and looked out into the crowd, she was more than relieved to _not_ see a ghostly doe staring at her ominously - as good a time as any to show up. All she could see were the people she loved, and the people she cherished. Her Mom and Dad, and William and Joyce, sitting together, the sides of families for their respective daughters blurring completely. Her Blackwell friends and high school friends, clashing stereotypes of personalities with a passionate common interest in the couple before them. Kate Marsh, her sister in all but blood, sitting next to Victoria Chase, someone she was beginning to see as a loyal friend and business partner, the two beaming with pride side-by-side, Maid of Honor and Bridesmaid.

Maxine and Chloe Pricefield stood together, best friends and soulmates, married and official, Pirates, knowing that out of all the changes she had made, this one was what truly mattered and worked towards for so long - the reason she was here, the reason she never thought twice in her journey.

Her Butterfly wrapped an arm around her Doe, twirling her fingers in her red strands, and Max guided her by her waist back up the aisle.

She'd do it all again - everything - in a heartbeat. She just _really_ hoped she didn't have to.

Max and Chloe were strange people. It was implied that their life had to fit to that standard. But if it was going to be strange, it was going to be _their_ kind of fucking strange.

Hella strange, as a friend once said.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This has been a fun ride, people. It's been one of the easiest to come to me, and the least stressful thing I've written in a while. It was a breath of fresh air. This is my favorite completed story, surely, and I hope to come back to it one day.

Maybe. Totally. Please review, and follow my future (and past) adventures in writing! (I don't think there's much crossover between Harry Potter and Life is Strange fans, but hey, I should at least ask.)

See ya in the Mosh Pit, Shaka Brah.

 **EDIT:** Welcome to Season Two of One More Time! Didn't have to wait long!


	7. The Unexpected

**Author's Note:** Happy Birthday, Chloe.

I may have missed last year, not very sure, but I've tried to make it a tradition to post a chapter of any of my Harry Potter stories on the 31st of July and the 19th of September (Harry and Hermione's birthdays, respectively). So why should Max or Chloe's birthday be any different, at least for one year?

I don't know what the hell I'll have for Max's birthday, but I know I have something for Chloe.

I love dates. It's a weird quirk I have, just ignore it.

Heavy emphasis taken away from the main couple, but that comes back with a vengeance in the next two chapters. Yeah, you heard me right. Not finished yet. You can thank my patrons for that. The wonderful journey of One More Time, revisited one more time. You won't be disappointed.

* * *

"She makes me happy. I _know_ there's something more there. There _has_ to be, Max. So why do I feel this huge weight on me? Sorry for being a drama queen."

Maxine Pricefield took a sip of her tea. Had her friend not been in such a state of distress, she would've asked her to write down the blend.

Love advice was something she could do. In fact, advice of any type was her forte. She was a girl years beyond her youth. 'A lifetime ahead of everyone else,' as her dear wife would say. So, starting a column in the State Capital's newspaper was something that she felt she could handle. Some had felt that she wasn't qualified enough to give 'worldly' advice, considering her almost immeasurable wealth, but once the reviews came in, she had carved out yet another niche in Oregon. It was becoming more impossible to leave this beautiful town every day, and she didn't want to brag, but it was _totally_ her fault. She just made the damn place too livable. There were certainly more blue-jays around than she remembered.

Of course, if it were any other person, she would have preferred to be anonymous. The paper didn't see it that way, so the pride of Arcadia Bay, Max Pricefield, had a steady job in the newspaper as a personal advice columnist. _Ask Max_ even had its own website, to offer free advice to anyone that wasn't desperate to put their life on the third page of the Salem News. Daniel was very helpful with that, and Chloe enjoyed running the site, even partnering up to give advice most days. Her wife had enjoyed the Big Brother and Sister Program as much as Max had.

And while she was good at giving sound advice, Max's biggest criticism was that she almost never gave an actual direction, merely laying out the possible choices, and giving a pro/con list of following each path. Meanwhile, her readers loved the advice - it didn't make them feel like they were cornered, like the answer shouldn't be too obvious or simple, like they were idiots. Her advice made them consider wisely, and follow what they deemed was best in the most logical step on the path before them.

Graduation was approaching fast, and Max had found a pattern in life to keep her busy, while Chloe posted her artwork alongside Max's photos on their website. Really, it was amazing how responsive the art community was. Partnering with several Art Productions across the United States, they began a business of having prints ordered for their own works, and distributed throughout many museums. _Hipster Instagram_ , Chloe called it, and Max couldn't help but agree, and considering she owned part of _actual_ Instagram, this was a natural progression for them. The success of their work was staggering, and Max couldn't have been happier with the way their lives had been, and were going.

Still, she couldn't help but feel an odd sense of Déjà vu, sitting across from her best friend while she aired her personal woes. Her first ever real advice was another lifetime ago, to the meek girl who felt challenged to go to anyone else.

"You're the only one I can talk to about this."

"And that's the problem, Kate." In so many ways. "You're going to have to tell your parents soon. At least your dad, and your sisters. You can't keep this from them for too long, trust me."

"Your parents were okay with you," Kate whispered, "you know... you and Chloe."

"Kate, _look at me_. Don't be embarrassed. We've never had a problem talking about my relationship with Chloe before. You were there, with me, the first time we walked into the school together. You even offered to hold my other hand. I can't... I just can't stand to see you looking so ashamed about this. Not now."

Kate gave a soft smile at the memory, but looked up swiftly at the last statement. "No, Max! That wasn't what I was trying to do at all! I'm sorry! It's just, I'm not too used to this - being on the other side, I mean. Wait, that didn't come out right. I mean..." she stopped her rambling to take a deep breath. "She's my friend, and I love her. But I don't know if I love her like you and Chloe."

Max shook her head. "That's the main problem. You don't _have_ to be in love with her. You just have to be interested, and go from there. As it would be with a boy, would you wonder if you were in love if you find them attractive?"

Kate pondered the thought. "It's so much more than that. It's just the way she... you know, _her_. The way she holds herself, her confidence, her compassion for whatever she does, that look in her eye when something gets in her way, the smile on her face when she gets what she wants. Her laugh, her smile, the way she looks at me... please help me, Max."

Max hid her smile behind the cup of tea. "My personal, professional advice: I can't tell you you're in love. Only you can decide that. But I can tell you the choice I made when I met a girl that made me feel like that." She wiggled her ring finger along with her extended pinkie, letting the small silver band glint in the sun. "I never let her go. I can never live my life off of maybes and missed chances. If you can find someone that brings you happiness, boy or girl, don't ignore it. At least give the idea a good looking into. Befriending a lesbian got us here today, didn't it? Imagine what the Meals on Wheels program would be if we never joined forces. Look at the people we've helped; I don't think any bible could be against that. Imagine what I wouldn't be today if I was still searching for that someone, who I was convinced had to be the opposite gender."

Kate's lip trembled. "Some part of me wishes that were the only problem. But part of me is accepting who I could be, and who I'm attracted to, and I have you to thank for that. You and Chloe are so _happy_ together. Happier than most, quote, 'normal' couples I've seen. And no amount of reading could convince me that it's some kind of abomination. If anything, it's the people that live a loveless marriage. I could never live a lie." Her smile was distant, but Max could see it. "I choose to be happy."

"Not a bad choice. I certainly haven't regretted it. So, will you tell her?"

Whatever smile was left, disappeared in an instant. Not the right thing to say. "I can't. You _know_ Victoria. How could I tell her that I'm _gay_ for her?"

"You have no idea how big of a compliment that is, Kate. And yes, I know Vic. You do, too. She'd never judge you." Once again, she had cut the ties between the Victoria of now and yesteryear. This Victoria was a beautiful soul, and really made her consider their relationship in the other alternate reality. When Victoria of that time thought she was avoiding her, it was a genuine panic in those text messages. Far beyond the treatment of Courtney and Taylor. "Think about it, Kate. What would you do if your friend came to you and admitted how they felt? If it was a boy, you'd be flattered, but turn them down. If it was a girl, you'd freak out a little, but you turn them down all the same, maybe even more politely. Your best girl friend? You'd tear yourself apart, like you're doing now."

She looked confused. "Do you think I'd be torn apart if you ever asked me out, Max?"

"No. Because, barring Chloe, you already knew ahead of time who I would be asking. You know you'd be an option, and be prepared should that occur. I've gone way public about it, Kate. If Victoria asked you out today, it would be more than unexpected. She's probably never dropped any hints before." Except Victoria rejecting Trevor's advances, or never going to a Vortex Club party without checking on her non-partying friend, or being absolutely _ecstatic_ when said friend decides to leave the dorm to join the more rambunctious crowd, and never leaving her side. Max couldn't point out all of that, yet. She didn't want to get the girl's hopes up. _Again_. "So maybe introduce the concept? Tell her that you're very open minded. Bring up me and Chloe. Ask her what she honestly thinks, and if she would ever think about someone _that way_. Just make sure she knows that not only would you be okay with it, but that you're really not sure how you feel about certain people." She bit her lip. "Honestly, telling her that you _want_ her would be more direct, and probably works just as well, but baby steps."

That gave her a laugh, and it was still one of the most beautiful things Max had heard. Not a day went by did she ever take her smile, or her laugh, for granted. "Thanks, Max. I really needed to talk about this to someone."

"I'm really glad I could help, Kate. But I wish you could have first brought this up to Victoria."

"I don't think I'm ready for that. Not yet."

"If not now, when? It may be a cliché, but it's tried and true; don't wait too long, or it could be gone before you realized what you had."

"Maybe. But so is our friendship. I can't lose that."

"Now would be the perfect time to see how strong that friendship is. Above everything else, honesty is your best choice."

"You're a good friend, Max."

"I'm flattered, Kate. Unfortunately, I'm already taken."

The two girls laughed, and it felt like everything was back to normal.

* * *

"You realize she was Max's _Maid of Honor_ at our _wedding_ , right?"

Victoria was silent for a long, unsure moment as they walked down the hall, wading through the decent crowd of art enthusiasts. "I know, I know, it's stupid, but... she's really comfortable with you two. Like, _really_ comfortable. She knew you two were together, in a sort, way before you two said anything to each other, even. Maybe it took her time to adjust? Maybe you two are the exception to the rule?"

Chloe was already shaking her head. "You know her about as well as Max and me. You really think she would be two-faced about her friends?"

"Not two-faced. Just, I don't know, she accepts that part of your life. She doesn't judge you for it, it came in the packaging. But don't you think a little part of her would judge me? Or even _herself_?"

Silently, Chloe conceded to that point. If her wife hadn't told her about their regular chats at the café, she would've had a hard time believing Kate would consider her orientation at all. "Maybe. But you know she'd be completely honest with you. You've earned that with her."

"Yeah." She rubbed her own elbow as she walked with her friend. "Maybe it's the truth that worries me."

If Max hadn't specifically asked that she be tactful, Chloe would have blurted out the girl's confessions in a second. For now, she could only level the girl's misery, rather than scare her into inaction. "I know your circumstances may be a bit different, but did you consider how afraid I was confessing how I felt to Max? She was actively waiting for me to figure it out, of course, but it was terrifying as hell to put myself out there. It was the fact that I was confessing to my best friend, that makes it both exhilarating and terrifying. I was afraid of her rejecting a date. I was _never_ afraid of her rejecting _me_ , or our friendship."

The pure blonde's mouth twisted into a smile. "You two were best friends since, like, four. I've known Kate for a year."

"And yet," Chloe reminded her with a sideways grin, "you're contemplating the rest of your life and wondering if you can live it without her."

She blushed, like a grade school girl, and Chloe saw a mirror image for a moment. "Shut up! _Jeesh_ , it's not like _that_!"

"Jeesh?" Chloe repeated, and Victoria put her face in her hands. "Trying not to say the Lord's name in vain, are we?"

She mumbled something, and Chloe let out a low whistle. "That's not very Christian-like, Vic. You've got a long way to go."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "She's worth it. Even with her as just a friend, I can tell you that." She sighed in frustration. "What bothers me is how much further I'd go to change for her."

"You have no idea how much she adores you," Chloe said bluntly, and Victoria looked up in surprise at the slightly taller girl. "She loves how you're not afraid to speak up, or how loyal a friend you are, and how you pursue your dreams with no mercy. And let's not get started on that sassy attitude..."

"I've never been hit on by a married woman before," she muttered, but she smiled wide at the compliments. "What would your wife say?"

Chloe shrugged. "Unlike you, she's not afraid to tell you what she feels."

"Low blow."

"Good. Maybe that should get your pale ass in gear."

"And now you're looking at my ass?"

"Well, Max says so many good things about it. I have to peek every now and then."

Victoria paused and inspected the girl, not sure if she was being toyed with or not.

Chloe returned the stare with a smirk. "You totally got a little turned on when you heard that, didn't you?"

"Of course not," she played it off coolly, but Chloe wasn't having it.

"Oh, little Vicky; Max and I would _break_ you so _good_."

"W-what?" she stuttered, and scowled when the strawberry-blonde laughed. " _Not_ funny!"

"Oh, I wish I could frame that reaction and hang it right there," she pointed over to an empty space. "Right in the Priceless Gallery."

Victoria scowled, crossing her arms. "I see that Schadenfreude is a hobby of yours."

"She said to Big Sister of the Year, 4-time running Co-champion." She stopped in front of one of their more popular exhibits. "I clearly can't tell you how to run your life, Vic. But don't be selfish enough to think that Kate doesn't care about you. Even if she's not interested, she'd want to _know_ , because she's your damn friend. It's clearly eating you alive for you to come to _me_."

"No," Victoria assured her, "I knew you could help. Max would be too subtle about it. You'd heavy-hand me into action."

"Oh, _Jeesh_. And I thought I was a gentle soul."

"About as gentle as your hair."

"Blue is calming."

"I meant the... arrangement."

She shrugged, reaching up to finger some of her blue streaks. "You did this hair, Victoria. Maybe this is a reflection of your muddled emotions?"

Her jaw snapped shut. Chloe took that opportunity to inspect the large photograph beside her.

Max's gift to the people of Arcadia Bay was, as Chloe had once deemed it, 'Like France giving America the Statue of Liberty.' She had outdone herself on this one, and Chloe's work had only extended the piece's timelessness. It was the crowd photo taken during the high school graduation, and true to her word, it was probably the best yearbook photo ever. _'_ _The People of Arcadia Bay._ _'_

After the fact, in a fit of inspiration, she had sent out a newsletter requesting a selfie photo with a signature on it, and within a couple of weeks, she had managed to get everyone's clear face. Max had probably known from the beginning that the blown up picture probably wouldn't look the best, and she improved upon it by pasting each selfie photo over each original face. She then asked Chloe to draw over the entire spread, and the two were transported back to the time they worked on their dream board, when she had asked her best friend why she had spaced out...

The large canvas looked beautiful, in her professional opinion. And their added renditions only accentuated the art piece. Now it stood proudly, taking up a majority of the wall, the happy faces of Arcadia Bay.

From what Max had told her, this _never_ could have been made in her past life. People being... happy.

"If you find a chance at happiness, take it." Chloe glanced to her left, and Victoria looked like such a lost puppy, it hurt her. "Always take it. The worst thing that can happen? A couple of awkward months. The best?" She casually brushed her hair with her left hand, showing off her most precious jewel. "Well, Max and I are the exception to the rule; you're right about that. But hey, you might get a lifetime of joy out of it."

Victoria pouted. "Trust me, if I let myself think that far ahead, I'd be jumping off a roof right now. Right now, I just want to see if she wants to be with me. If she _would_ be with me. You've seen how frosty her mother is towards you. Do you think she would even have a choice?"

"Doesn't matter," she responded, crossing her arms. "She doesn't live with them. Her father and sisters were cool with us. Majority votes, if they had a choice at all. Kate can live her life the way she wants. All she needs is a window. Who's to say that she isn't curious about the idea? You two look real comfortable on our road trips to Seattle, sitting on each other's laps. Don't think you're the only one who enjoys it."

She blinked rapidly. "She never said anything about it."

"Now you know the feeling. Try being honest with each other for a change."

Chloe let the blonde reflect on her words, tilting her eyes towards the painting opposite the large mural. _'_ _The Spirit of Arcadia Bay,_ _'_ a companion piece to the mass portrait. It was a gift from Kate, and it made Chloe's heart melt. It was the other side of the photo - Max and her standing behind the podium on stage, their locked lips hidden behind her phone, taken seconds after Max's graduation speech. It didn't win any awards in the now bi-monthly contest, due to favoritism, but since they made the rules, some strings were pulled, and the painting remained anonymous. Maybe years later, when Kate's drawing style was recognized nationally as a children's book writer, the golden plate beneath the painting would have a deserving signature, rather than 'Donation'.

"If she was able to draw this," Chloe remarked, drawing Victoria's attention, "then why the hell do you think she won't support you every step of the way?"

She gave the older girl a soft smile. "Thanks, Chlo. I needed that. I know I've been a bitch about this, but I appreciate your advice."

The strawberry-blonde waved it off. "Anytime, Drama Queen. Really, once you get married, topics become a lot less stressful to talk about with your best friend. Years down the road, this will be a trivial thing to laugh about."

Victoria kept her thoughts to herself, willing to see the positive side for once. "I suppose marrying your best friend helps."

"Take. The. Hint."

"Well noted."

* * *

"Does part of you, you know... miss him?"

She tilted her head to the side, across the school grounds to the boy in question, before finally shaking her head. "He was so nice to me, in a place filled with demons. I found a kindred spirit in Warren. He brought out the uber nerd in me, and embraced the weird. And even though we were friends for barely more than a month, he was a constant companion." Throughout her monologue, her eyes were firmly on Chloe's. "There's no reason for me to get to know Warren. This Max doesn't need that kind of support, and really, I'd just be shoehorning myself into his life. He saw a strange, confused, nervous girl sitting by herself in the science lab and decided to help out. He'll see none of that this time around. Still; I never returned the favor last time. I owe him big."

"Think a threesome with a couple of billionaires would be payment enough?"

She let out a snort, reaching up to swat her wife on the shoulder. "I don't owe him _that_ considerably, thankyouverymuch." She looked up to the sky, seeing the small drone float by them. "We should totally get one of those."

Chloe looked up from her lap, where Max's head lay, up towards the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun. "I'm sure the Fundraiser Drive would like a few." She held up the 'peace' sign and Max followed suit, knowing the drone had a camera built in. She also knew that it didn't have a microphone.

"Don't want to spend all that money at once," Max joked, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Doe Eyes, we could buy the company that makes those things and it'd be a drop in the bucket."

"Fair point." She was silent for a few moments. "How about a partnership?"

"Hooking up Warren with the girl flying that contraption? Brooke, you said her name was?"

"Maybe. I was thinking more along the lines of a drone company and the toy fund. That would make a good Holiday drive present."

"Or we could do Christmas presents by drone delivery."

She laughed, looking up at her wife, thankful for the tree shade. "You're insane."

"Better than every kid in Arcadia having access to a spy drone. Besides, you love me for my insanity."

"I love you because I'm insane. You just help me cope with it."

"True, true. Can't argue that, time-traveler." Chloe crossed her arms behind her head as she leaned back against the tree, and closed her eyes. "This is nice."

Even under the shade of the large tree, Max could see the sunlight reflect off her pinkish, blueish hair, giving her a nice halo effect. Her angel, firmly earthbound. "Perfect."

* * *

"Look at them," Kate whispered, watching the couple together from her table. "They're beautiful."

Victoria smirked. "Real subtle, Kate."

She blushed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I hope not. Getting married isn't exactly 'taking it slow'."

She leaned forward and fiddled with her thumbs. "How slow?"

"As slow as you want. I've got time."

"You'll be going to Paris after graduation."

"For a few weeks, yes. If I want a future as Max's partner in her photography ventures, then I need to do my part, and I have connections in France. It shouldn't take long. What, you ready to move on without my every day influence?"

She looked away from Victoria's fluttering eyelids. "I was actually, ah... hoping..."

"I have another ticket. Paris is a big, beautiful place. It would be nice to show you around."

Kate blinked at her new girlfriend's sincere tone, and smiled brightly. "I'd like that."

Victoria gave into her infectious smile. "I thought you would. I'm new at this, but no date of mine is saying no to _Paris_."

"Did I pass some kind of test?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've invited you to Paris before. Technically, you've already failed a while back."

"I never thought it appropriate to go."

"I take Max and Chloe and Dana and Taylor all the time with me. How is it not appropriate?" Her mask of confusion slowly morphed away. " _Oh_. Afraid to be in the city of love with little ol' me, all to yourself?"

Kate's face burned, and she just wanted to hold it in her fingers, and take it against her own. "A girl has... temptations."

"Don't I know it," she muttered in a low growl, and the long-haired blonde's eyes widened at the implication. "Miss Marsh, if you can barely resist it, what makes you think I stand a chance?"

"Vicky, you're stronger than me."

"If that were true, I would've brought up 'us' first." She sat back and crossed her arms. "How 'fun' do you want Paris to be?"

"As fun as we can make it." She said it with a certain cheer that made Victoria both smile, and cringe.

"You are _so_ innocent, Kate."

"Maybe." She nibbled into her bottom lip. "But giving in to temptation might be fun, no?"

That shocked her into silence, and her face showed how unexpected that comment was. Kate smiled innocently. "We've got time. I don't want to rush anything. But why don't we just... let whatever happen, happen? City of love, right?"

"Yeah," she murmured, and she felt the overwhelming need to pull at the cashmere scarf around her neck. "The city of love."

Hazel eyes met brown, and the two gave each other nervous smiles.

They had all the time in the world.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In my official version, this is only a quarter of the Epilogue. This story was 30,000 words, and I said I wasn't done. A very helpful patron ensured that I wouldn't be, and now the story has been extended to 50,000 words. So the other 16,000 words of my epilogue is available to read on Patr/e/on (dotcom forward/slash Rihaan), for only a dollar pledge.

See you on April 20th. Because, as I've said today, and on Valentines day when I released Chapter Four, I'm a sucker for dates. Another day, dedicated to Chloe XD (no emoji!)


	8. Chaos Myth

**Author's Note:** So, I've been hearing rumors that Life is Strange 2 has been confirmed. I'm pretty sure Max and Chloe won't be the main characters in this one, so I'm not sure about my own level of interest. But I'll listen to any story Dontnod studios has to tell, producing my sleeper GOTY for 2015. What do you guys think?

Wait, hold onto that thought. Read this chapter first. Explicit Warning, by the way. And when you're done reading that tidbit, read the rest of the chapter, because I outdid myself with this one.

* * *

" _Wowsers_. Fucking. Worth it."

"Language, Max! Honestly, why did we even _have_ a swear jar?"

"Uhuh," she murmured, but Chloe wasn't sure she heard her. She couldn't blame her.

Kate looked _beautiful_. To believe that such a wholesome, kind soul could turn anyone sinful at a glance... Chloe shook her head. "She looks good."

"Yuh-huh," her wife nodded in agreement, before she hooked her arm around her shoulders. "You know you're my Butterfly. But forgive me. This sight, I'm cherishing for the rest of my life."

Once again, Chloe couldn't blame her. "I didn't even know she owned a little black dress."

"Would you believe that she asked me to buy it for her in Paris?" Victoria stood beside them, arms crossed as she smiled at her girlfriend across the yard. "She wanted to buy one for me, but I said only if I could get her one. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I bought a blue one right before our trip."

 _Fuck_ , Chloe thought. Now she was picturing Victoria in it. "I wonder which one of you are gonna end up tearing it first trying to get it off."

"It'll probably end in a tie," Max sighed. "Chloe, we're going shopping."

"Ditto."

"It doesn't look too... trashy, does it?" Kate wondered genuinely, approaching them from the steps outside their dorm.

"You're beautiful," Victoria said sincerely, and the timid girl beamed at the news, and twirled in her heels for her partner.

"You think you know a girl when you've seen her in her Sunday Best," Chloe clapped. "Turns out Saturday Night is the best time to check her out."

"Which reminds me," Victoria noted clinically, "Let's try not to go too hardcore out there, girls. Kate and I have service to attend tomorrow."

Kate blinked at the news. "R-really?"

Under the moonlight, her natural blush shone even through the makeup. "Let's not make a big deal out of this, babe. You knew I was going to come with you eventually."

Kate snapped her arms around her girlfriend, and almost ruined said makeup with her kisses. "Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouIloveyousomuchthankyou..."

"Exact opposite of making a big deal out of it," Victoria tried to get out, a huge smile on her face. "I love you, too. Ready to show Vortex the new premiere couple of Arcadia Bay?"

"Please," Chloe bragged, "We paved the way for you millennials. Talk to us when you get a bill passed."

"We're pretty awesome," Max agreed. "But you two are a great couple. Close second place, for sure."

The two stuck out their tongues in response. The four girls laughed as they walked along to Chloe's truck.

* * *

"Hey, Max? Can we talk? Did I ever, um... upset you, or something?"

Chloe was once again graced with the sight of Max 'Doe-Eyes' Pricefield as she was caught. "Sorry?"

 _("Answer me, Bitch! Don't you dare walk away from me! I own you! I own this school!")_

"Well, I mean, you've never been outright rude to me. It's just, you know, it's hard to gauge you. I feel like you're so nice to everyone else. You're nice to me, but don't take this the wrong way; I feel like you're being nice to me out of obligation."

 _("Now fuck off, Dyke! If I wanted to, I could blow all this shit up! Don't FUCK with me!")_

Right in one. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Nathan." And the award for irony goes to... "I don't think I meant to. You just remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. He looked a lot like you. Bad memories."

 _("Rachel in the Dark Room. Rachel in the Dark Room. Rachel in the Dark Room...")_

"I hope we're different people," he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sorry for whatever that guy did. My sister would jump down my throat if she thought I pissed you off. It's a little late to try to be your friend, but I don't want to be on _your_ bad side, and especially not know the reason why. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

 _("...I'm... sorry. I didn't want to hurt Kate... or Rachel or ... I-I didn't want to hurt anybody.")_

"You couldn't be further apart from that guy I knew. He was a monster. I guess some people are made that way. You seem well-tamed enough. No hard feelings, alright?"

When the young man nodded, with a genuine smile, Max felt another chapter of her life close. It would be a while longer before she accepted drinks from the boy she reported so long ago – there was a reason they only served bottled drinks at the party, and confiscated any that were abandoned for longer than ten seconds – but she felt that this was a good first step.

"I'd make a 'hell freezing over' joke," Chloe whispered into her ear as he walked away, her arms wrapped around her front, "but I don't want to jinx it, now that I know it's possible."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Come on. I'm having a really good time right now. Everything is as it's supposed to be. Allyssa didn't even get hit by anything yet. Warren found a best friend in Stella, and I can actually sit back and enjoy myself – I think."

"There's a couch downstairs, in the... you know."

Max latched herself onto Chloe's crossed arms. "Full circle, isn't it? I haven't stepped down there in over a decade."

"I never saw 'that place'. But this room is completely different, I promise. I'll be with you this time. _Nothing_ will hurt you, Max."

Wordlessly, the younger brunette walked forward, leaving her wife's embrace, connecting her hand to Chloe's as they went towards the stairs.

At least it wasn't a hatch anymore. No giant metal vault door, either.

The downstairs looked entirely different. Just seeing Kate dancing, _enjoying_ herself, back to back with Victoria, her smile just as big, sent a chill down her spine.

She was the only person who could see how _wrong_ all of this was, how fucked up this entire situation was. Only she could ever know the horrors of this place in her generation, and while Mark Jefferson was long gone from this world, only the memory of him kept him alive.

And, as she had discovered time and time again, she _never_ forgot.

Her wife pulled her into a hug, and quickly covered it up by stepping to the side, swaying back and forth. "It's okay, it's okay," she whispered, cooing in her ear, and it worked far faster than it should've, considering the panic she was just in. "I'm here for you, Max. I'm never leaving you. You did so much without me. I'll never let anything hurt you. Just let me be your everyday hero. Your guardian fucking angel. I swear, Max... I swear..."

The tears were blinked away before she could even shed them. "I believe you. Thank you."

"This is maybe the second time I've seen you cry, Max. You're always the one comforting me. Some part of me is kinda looking forward to returning the favor."

"I hope you don't get many chances. But I'll love you all the more for it."

"C'mon, let's go back to the dorm. We're fucking _married_ , why are we still _clubbing_?"

"We organized this party, Chloe."

"Yeah, fucking Vortex Club. I gotta tell you, it lost its luster right about now."

"A little bit. But I needed to see this for myself." She looked up and examined the expansive party room, filled with lively people and a happy atmosphere. "The Dark Room is no more."

"And never will be. Come on. I wanna spend a quiet night at home with my wife. Some Blade Runner? We haven't watched that in a while."

She smiled at her girl. In some ways, she hadn't changed a bit. "You know what? You mind if we stay here a little longer? We give this up to the next generation after this night – let's enjoy this while we have it."

"So you really have been considering moving?"

"Actually, no." She held her hand tighter. "I had no idea how to bring this up, but Arcadia has been so good to us. A lifetime ago, we talked about nothing more than getting out of town. You'd give anything to get out of here – including your life. But now..."

"You saved the town. Then, now, and forever. This isn't the Arcadia Bay you remember."

"I'm standing in what was once the worst place in this entire town. I managed to somehow turn it into a destination spot."

"So... we're staying?"

"We can go _anywhere_ , Chloe. Anywhere we want. But it's not a bad idea to have a residence here."

Her wife chuckled. "Now I know why mom kept the diner. Now I know why we still work there. So many good choices – we stick to what we're used to."

"So that's why you haven't divorced me and taken half."

"I like to keep up appearances; appearing like I know what the fuck I'm doing. As it turns out, _you're_ my jackpot, babe."

It was so corny, she couldn't help but laugh a melodious laugh. And the two danced in the Dark Room, with more smiles and laughter, and maybe a few photos, and Max had yet another set of memories to be replaced – possibly the last bad memories to linger in her mind of Arcadia Bay.

* * *

This is a happy story. Unbearably so. The endgame of all of this will reflect what I had set out to do. This is an important scene to lead to that future. Don't have a grim sense of foreboding while reading this scene. Now, enjoy.

* * *

"Totally unfair question – who was better? Me or Blue?"

"You."

"Huh. That was less dramatic than I thought."

"It shouldn't be. I've come to terms with it. That Chloe was the one I fell in love with. But you are the Chloe she's always wanted to be. You are the idea that she fell in love with. We both had our flaws, and we were perfect for each other. We have, since, evolved together again, and now we're prefect for each other. Therefore, you are the better Chloe. Sound fair?"

"I guess. You really think she'd be that proud of what I am?"

"Depends. How proud are you?"

"Depends. How proud are you of me?"

"Very."

"Then pretty damn proud."

"See? Not as dramatic as you'd think. I worked hard to become someone that you'd be proud of. I think it's working out pretty well."

"Agreed." She sighed, and sunk in a little lower. "Any future with a private hot tub in our bedroom works out pretty well."

Max rolled her eyes as she hugged her bikini-clad wife from behind. "Don't stay in there too long. I don't need my trophy wife to become a prune."

"I'm waiting for you˜˜!" She sing-songed, leaning back into the embrace. "This trophy needs a little polishing." She tilted her head back. "Don't you want to know how long I can hold my breath underwater, now?"

She tilted her head. "Are you sure the money didn't get to your head?"

"I don't think so; more getting used to being an actual adult. But this is a really nice house; it's a huge step for us, having our own home. And never having to go through legal bullshit, or money problems, makes the temptation strong to miss a day or two at Joyce's Diner."

"I... may have worked out a deal with Joyce... our little brothers and sisters in the program could use a little push in the right direction, huh? It's a nice real-word experience for them, and she loves her little employees." Unexpectedly, she leapfrogged over her lover, evoking a shriek of laughter, and splashed into the heated water, the enlarged tub being more than accommodating for her frame to dip through and touch the floor, before doubling back and surfacing between Chloe's spread knees. She rested her elbows on her lover's thighs. "Part of me wants to blow our money on an actual pirate ship."

Chloe, trying to control her laughter, gently pushed her wife away to sink into the small pool. "We've always been pretty good with our imaginations. So, maybe a yacht."

"Personal cruise ship."

"Yacht," Chloe stressed, kissing her lover to quiet any protests. "Don't make me the responsible one. I'll have to get Eliza to confiscate it."

"Fine. Yacht it is. I'm glad we could compromise and go frugal."

Chloe peeled the soaked clothes off her beloved, tossing them carelessly to the other side. "This is officially our home, tomorrow. Blackwell is taking in a new class for the fall season, and we're moved out of the Prescott dorms. How does it feel to have a place you and I can call home?"

"No difference," Max told her honestly. "We could be living in your truck right now, and I'd be happy with that. Honestly, I wanted us to live easier lives, but we can handle anything together. Just in case." She smiled sadly. "I really doubted there was a chance I could have stopped you from getting in a car accident one day, or me, or William or Joyce. So I wanted to be prepared. It was a backup plan for a lot of things, if I needed it. If anything happened to you, I would be right there with you. And we would've had all the money in the world to get us fixed. If anything were to happen to me, you'd at least be covered by Eliza. If anything happened to William this time around, we could've run away together, or whatever you wanted. We could do _anything_ with what we have. I've done so much, and _we've_ done so much, and it all worked out. But if anything... unexpected happened, there's a choice. There's always a choice."

She stared deep into her eyes. "I tried to be prepared for everything, except, well, you. I promised myself, a long time ago, that's the only way I'll use my power. Nothing else. And if everything starts breaking apart again, we can get out and bring anyone – _everyone_ we want. And if it follows... if it follows, it was all for nothing. But, like I said, there's always a choice. Always."

"You'd really do it all again for me? Rewrite the past again?"

"I have to. _Always_ , Chloe."

"Don't."

"...What?"

"You've done enough, Max. It's over for you. Now, it's about _us_. I don't want you replacing these memories for anything else. Don't you dare forget about me!"

"Butterfly, you know I wouldn't – "

"I'm sure you won't actively try. But you would. I don't know how many times you might be able to jump back and try to make things right, but all I know is that you've done too much for all of this to be for nothing. If fate would be so fucking heartless as to take me away from you, _again_ , I don't want you to go through that heartbreak again, and _again_. It'd be just an infinite loop of _pain_. It might never end, and you knew that when it started – when the OG Chloe figured it out. But you've done all you can. You can't do this for all eternity."

"I... I can't promise you that, Chloe. I _can't_ lose you. I don't regret a moment of everything I've done for us. The last mistake I thought I ever made, was leaving her to make this jump. It almost felt like sacrificing her. She and I – _you_ and I – could have gone away and never looked back. I really didn't know if you even _could_ love me like I loved you in this world, and that _terrified_ me. But you _do_ love me back, and it was all worth it again. And I am so glad I got to know and care for so many other people again, especially Kate and Victoria, and Dana, and Taylor and Courtney and even Nathan... but this isn't me preparing for doomsday, I'm talking about life! If anything happens to you, I'll – "

"Risk everyone's happiness – even your own – for me. Sound familiar?"

"Goddammit, Chloe! What makes you think that I could ever be happy without you?"

"You'd _never_ be happy this way – trying to chase me away from the grave for an eternity. I won't let you do that to yourself. How many times did she... how many times have I died with you right with me? How many times did you have to save my _doomed_ _ass_?"

"Enough times to learn from my mistakes." Her voice was firm – far from her inner turmoil. "We've done this before, Chloe. You just don't remember it. You might be willing to accept your fate; I'm not."

"Exactly." Her hands clasped her best friends'. "I want you to grow _old_ , Max. And I want to be with you to see it. Do crazy shit, see crazy things, follow our dreams; that's ideal, right? Every Chloe you meet will probably say the same thing – I wanna stay with you as long as I can. No matter how many years I have, I want you by my fucking side the whole way. I don't want to lose this. I can't let you do that to me, or yourself. All of this – _everything_. It doesn't make sense to lose it all and start fresh. Don't do that to us. I'll never forget you. Could you say the same about me?"

"Yes – but if this doesn't work, we could be better."

"..."

"You _know_ what I mean."

"You _just_ told me you're proud of me, Max. Now you're telling me there's room for improvement?" She squeezed Max's jaw between her fingers, firmly – with desperation. "The Chloe you knew before couldn't give a shit about her own happiness, because she didn't think she was good enough to deserve it. She thought she was the scum of society, and she was meant to die. This is what I wanted to be – the best I can be. The absolute best, not because I'm worried for my life every day, but because I want you to be _proud_ of me, and up until a year ago, I'm fucking scared of my wife erasing everything I've worked for and starting with a clean slate. Maxine Pricefield, for once, let me be _selfish_! Let me have a goddamn _vote_! If I ever die, or some twisted shit happens to me, you need to _let_ – _me_ – _go_. I will _always_ love you, Max. But ten lives from now, I don't want to see a girl desperate to protect me from the world, her own sanity hanging on the thread that is my cursed life." She sighed, a very tired sigh, and her fingers slipped from her best friend's mouth down to her side. "But I won't remember a goddamn thing. So who cares, right?"

"No, you wouldn't." It was a sad admission, but it was true. "I could never lie to you again, Chloe. Never again. I don't want to have to repeat my life, and I'm not looking for the end of the world. _You are my world_. And I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Full tears fell from her cheeks. That hadn't happened since she said goodbye to the alternate Chloe, over a decade ago. "Never, Chloe. I will _never_ use those powers for something like that again. I haven't used them since I made the jump. Not once. I remember how much I couldn't not use it. I know the power it holds, and I know what would happen if I did it even one time, to go back a few seconds. I once told myself, that once I did this, it would be gone. I'll never know if it's completely gone, and I will never find out. I promise."

She clung onto her wife, holding her best friend with everything she had. " _I promise_."

Chloe sniffed, returning the hug. "I'm sorry, Max. I just... I don't want to be a failed experiment."

"You're perfect, Butterfly. Perfect."

"And if I die?"

"You won't. You. Won't. I can't believe anything else."

"But we have to live our lives the way we want to. No bubble – no moat surrounding the castle. We go balls to the wall, having _fun_. Max and Chloe versus the World."

Honestly – she wouldn't have had it any other way. The danger, supposedly had passed. No matter what inevitability they were headed towards, they could only watch each other's backs, while having the adventures they'd always wanted. "Guns blazing," Max finally agreed. "And no cheating. I promise."

Chloe rolled her slightly red eyes. "We're pirates. That doesn't work."

"Pirates with honor."

"Those exist?"

"Honor with each other."

"Aye-aye, my captain."

"We are so fucking goofy."

"Max, I think we just got into our first ever fight. I'm pretty sure this ended in the only way it could've ever ended." She went neck-deep into the water, and her loving wife followed. "Come on. Let's prune together. I think we both deserved it, my trophy wife."

They waded towards the foam-like seat, and Max rested her knees on either side of Chloe's thighs, staring into her eyes. "I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I've got to ask."

"Let me guess; role reversal?" Her wife nodded, her eyes downcast. "I'd do what I can. But if nothing works, I've got no choice but to burn the fucking world to the ground. You're far more level-headed than me. But if I saw you _die_ , even once or maybe twice, You'd see someone far more insane the third time around; someone far scarier than you'd ever like to know, and that's all you could ever remember me as. Just being apart from you in another life made me a junkie. I don't think either of us wants to know how I might deal with you dying."

"I... I never thought of it like that."

"Only _you_ could hold a power like that, Max. Only you could keep your sanity. I may not ever be ready to ready to die in this life, but I want you to be proud of the both of us, and proud of the lives we lived so far. You love me so much, and I hella believe that." Her teary smile made her wife snort. "So stay with me. Let's ride this life out. You and me. Forever. Always."

"Forever and always," she whispered, cupping her partner's cheek. "God, you're like a perfect painting. I don't even think I can start over."

"We're both perfect. And if anything happens, we're just too awesome for this world."

Max had said it before – A long time ago, she was perfect for Chloe. Here, her destiny was tied to a completely different woman; her wife, and her number one priority. It began and ended with Chloe Price, and in this case, Pricefield.

If she was 'destined' to suffer through an infinite loop, she may as well settle for perfection, in the here and now.

She leaned forward and kissed her lover with everything she had, and Chloe returned with fervor. Her hands wandered, stroking the soft, pale skin, her slim fingers exploring the toned body of her equally hands-y wife. With practiced ease, she removed Chloe's top, and discarded them in the general direction of her wet clothes.

Honestly, she may have seen her flawless body many times, but she would never be less than awed. What she loved most was the absence of tattoos, and piercings, and while they were beautiful on her, once upon a time, they had no right to mar her body like Max could.

A flickering lick against her best friend's nipple, and Chloe shivered, even in the heated water.

She lifted the girl's remarkably light body and scooted her onto the edge of the large tub, and – thankfully – the pruning had only reached her long digits, which were currently exploring Max's every curve – curves that, thanks to a far healthier and balanced lifestyle, had improved somewhat, having grown a few inches (and it was an entirely random thought that should _not_ have entered her mind at the moment, but she really needed to take a photo of their height chart in their old room), her breasts having grown a full cup size. And her ass...

God, Chloe loved her ass. That was once again proven true as Chloe grabbed a handful of her rump and pulled apart her cheeks. Max breathed sharply, her wet backside exposed to the cool air, but couldn't react further, her lips suckling at the slippery skin of her blue-streaked, strawberry-blonde partner.

She was so glad not to include chlorine in the water.

Chloe was content to sit quietly, allowing her wife to explore her to her heart's content. She panted lightly, the room getting a bit too hot as she was groped, her full breasts being squeezed and molested so perversely and _so_ dominantly. "Oh, M-Max... they're not going anywhere, y-ya know..."

She relaxed for a moment, pulling her lips away from a curious red spot on her lover's neck she was almost determined to make more prevalent, to lock onto her lover's blue eyes. "That wasn't a complaint."

"P-Please don't fucking stop."

She leaned forward and landed a chaste kiss to her shaking, quivering lips. "Every single room is sound proof, Butterfly, and all of it's to ourselves. If you don't want me to stop, don't keep it to yourself."

" _Fuck_ me, Max! _Please_! _OH_!"

Chloe had almost risen off the edge of the tub entirely, feeling two fingers roughly inserted into her. "I said; _scream_ for me, Chloe."

"Oh, _GOD_ , Max! _Fuck me_! Ah, _FUCK_!"

Max knew she was a good bad influence on her love. Hell, those swear jar tips were a result of Max's more controlled swearing, whereas Chloe didn't care who heard. She was very vocal when she was riled up.

And the both of them absolutely loved it when Max used it to her advantage. With another plunge of her index and middle fingers, Chloe let out another shriek-like gasp, followed by a drawn out moan as she withdrew.

Slamming her digits back into her tight passage, she stood up from her knees, back to standing in the water, towering over her other half. "Don't even need toys," she bragged, watching her lover's body writhe and pant against her own, her bright blue eyes wild with desire. "Not even the hot tub can hide how _wet_ you are."

At this point, coherent speech was near impossible; only whimpering sounds and staggering breaths could escape the strawberry-blonde's kissable lips.

And kiss her she did. Chloe rode herself on Max's swiftly thrusting fingers, her arms looping around her beloved's neck as knuckles brushed her swollen clit.

Twisting her fingers to use her thumb on the sensitive nub, the brunette maneuvered herself onto her wife's left thigh, and rode herself forward with her thrusts, grinding her slick heat against her paramour's leg. She broke the kiss to moan, and as much as Chloe loved the sound, she managed to find her lips again.

Faster than she wanted, she moaned her orgasm into Max's mouth, kicking into the pool as her body spasmed, and usually Max would have been pissed that she missed such a wonderful sight, but she had the rest of their lives to watch as much as she liked.

The best part of having a willing model as a wife was that she wasn't afraid of whatever the camera captured.

"Oh, shit..." Chloe panted, wincing as Max smoothly withdrew from her soaked, velvet center. " _Wowsers_. Thank you for that."

Max leaned into her lover's embrace. "Thank _you_. I needed to do that."

"Oh, feel fucking free to take charge like that anytime."

"Just doing my wifely duties."

With Max's help, she was able to slide back into the tub. "Best. Wife. Ever. I love you."

Max slipped her fingers into her mouth, savoring the taste. Only after the digits left her mouth, did she reply. "I know."

"Fuck, you're so hot right now." She pecked her Doe's lips. "Round Two?"

"Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna cuddle and prune."

"That sounds pretty good right now. Bonus, it's a convenient metaphor for growing old together."

Perhaps it was the blissful atmosphere she was in, or she had completely disassociated herself with the connection between her other life, but she didn't recognize and appreciate the irony of Chloe begging her to never use her powers again. "One perfect play through. No cheats."

"Like I said, my Doe; our greatest adventure yet."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I will post this one spoiler: I will NOT kill Chloe (or Max) off. I promise. Just wanted to give them the conversation that needed to be had. It was missing from the original (like every good second season of a show meant to be one season). There is an entirely different reason why Max is haunted by her past, and it will come to a satisfactory ending.

Yes, I'm aware how much impact is taken away from that scene with this message, which is one of my favorites. But I also don't want people rage-quitting the story after this scene, predicting where it might go, like I totally would have done. Hope you enjoyed.

This chapter was sitting on my website for about a month now, for free. And because I like you guys, I'll admit that the next chapter will be posted on the 20th on rihaansfics (dotcom)/OMT. So... there's that cheap plug.

Please review, and stay tuned.


	9. Start of an Era

**Author's Note:** The penultimate chapter. That makes me a little sad. Sorry if it gets preachy at some points, but I'm happy how this came out.

* * *

"You know, I've never seen anyone take a selfie with an analog. It's so…"

"Daguerreotype?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. In the 'reset the clock' type way. Imagine if that was the first craze of photography history."

She looked down at her faithful camera. "I've used and maintained this thing for a decade, now. I have a room filled with mini-hallways like a galleria, for my original prints. I wasn't lying when I said I hadn't missed a day taking a photo."

"That's _insane_. In a beautiful way. Your dedication is inspiring."

"Easy, girl. You've already sucked up to me enough." Resisting the urge to pull the picture and shake it, she instead rested the camera on the pedestal, centering it on the royal blue pillow. "End of an era. I hope our new cameras are just as meaningful."

"I doubt it. It was simple. Unassuming. All you had to worry about was focus and exposure. Now, that's step one of forty."

"Not for me. Digital is your area. I think I'll still stick to analog and film for now. They have wonderful compromises for those, even today."

"You're so old school. What makes digital so uncomfortable to you?"

Max hummed as the two walked down the darkened halls of the gallery, checking her watch as she did so. "It's not that – I like the digital advantage – I use my phone's camera once in a while. It just feels more _natural_. Not just the picture taken itself, it's more than that."

"I think I get it. You actually feel like you're taking the pictures, rather than the camera doing all the work."

"I guess so. I like to call myself a human camera. I just want the most direct way to take a photo, as little in the way from my eyes to the subject."

"Huh. I guess that's why you're not a 'filter' type of girl."

"Sometimes, I am. That's where Chloe comes in, to retouch the image."

"Wow, you don't do anything new age. You're completely stuck in the retro zone."

"I post it online. I think that counts."

"Never change, Max. You are totally one of a kind."

"No matter how many changes I seem to go through, I've always been the same."

"Good for you. I'm glad you never met me before Blackwell. I was a little on the bitchy side."

As far as Max was concerned, it was a distant memory. "What changed you, Vic?" She was genuinely curious about the answer.

"Honestly? You." She toyed with her new earrings – a six month celebration present from her beloved – and tilted her head to the side, away from her friend. "You were the stuff of legend in Arcadia. We're the same age, and I came to Blackwell because I needed to see you for myself. Like, what made you so special? How do you see things? You either have to be an inspiring figure, or a tortured soul to take the photos you do."

"Maybe a little bit of both. Was I everything you hoped for?"

"You're everything I aspire to be. I didn't come to this school to make friends, and yet, you came to me, reaching out to someone you didn't even know. I couldn't even stalk you like I wanted to, and _fake_ befriend you. I mean, I've always had Nathan to get me in the crowd, I didn't expect _you_ to _like_ me. Actually being the most popular girl's friend wasn't something I tried to do. It was a total connection."

"I felt a kindred spirit."

"The odd thing is – I felt something familiar in you, too." She paused. "Is it some kind of Gaydar Network?"

"Maybe. Were you gay at the time?"

"I don't think so. I've had boyfriends. Nothing serious. But Kate… she's something else entirely."

"As in… 'something serious'?"

The blonde's lips quirked. "You could say that."

Max decided to play along. "When's the wedding?"

"Hah, Hah." Her eyes took on a different shine at the mention, despite the sarcastic tone. "We can't all have the Pricefield™ happily ever after guarantee."

"No one can," she teased smugly, "but the Victory Marsh could be a strong contender, too." She shrugged at Victoria's glare. "It was the best Chloe and I could come up with. Chloe's a wrestling fan, so 'Katie Vick' brings back bad memories for her."

"Why am I not surprised?" She hooked her arm behind her back. "If you can't combine the names, then we're not destined to be, right?"

"I think Victoria Marsh, or Kate Chase, is perfectly adequate, don't you think?"

She gave a deflated sigh, and looked over to Max. "If things were that easy, I would have asked that on our anniversary. Maybe a lot sooner. I love her, she loves me; it _should_ be that simple. Why isn't it this _fucking simple_!?"

Max jumped back, just a little bit, at the outburst. Her friend hadn't sworn in a long time, for Kate's sake. "You don't think it _could_ be? Is it her family again?"

"Her family loves me," she assured her friend quickly. "Her mom is slowly growing on me. Her aunt… her aunt's a bitch."

"How do you _really_ feel, Vicky?"

"I'm sorry… you know I wouldn't slip into my old self unless I really needed to get something out. But somebody had to stand up to her."

"It was brave, that's for sure." Kate had given the event a mention, about Victoria telling her aunt off, but she didn't know what was said, and how it was taken. "So, what happened?"

"A total 'Deliver us from Vicky' moment happened." She sighed. "We drove down to her house for dinner, with every intention of burying the hatchet and a tearful hug party that I was totally looking forward to seeing. Marge, apparently, didn't have that in mind at all. She had us sit on opposite sides of the table, and prayed for about fourteen minutes." She smiled genuinely, leaning against an empty section of the wall. "It was the first time I've ever seen Kate not bow her head during a prayer. She kept mouthing 'sorry' at me, and I just… I couldn't take it anymore. The things that lady kept saying… I'm not too religious, but any decent deity that I believe in would have sent it to voicemail, and deleted it. It was by the time that she began to ask that He spare Kate's sisters from the _sin_ and _corruption_ that has overtaken their big sister, when I decided to interrupt."

Max bit the inside of her cheek. She had firmly established many years ago to abuse the future information she had, not only for the money, but for the power. She had gotten one bill passed, and it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the country followed, but with her on the top of the food chain in the Northwest, the 'One Percent' seemed a lot more reluctant to embrace homophobia. "What the hell did she say?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle; or, rather, The Queen Bitch Victoria couldn't handle. I gotta tell you, it felt pretty good to get my claws back out."

"How did Kate react?"

Victoria looked flustered in a way that Max had to chuckle. "Don't laugh! She… well, she'd never seen that side of me before. She said that my explosive persona was always in my art, and never in my actions. She said until you came along, she never really could stand up for herself to her aunt or her mom, or anyone else. I really… I thought she'd hate me for all the things I said."

"You're outspoken. That's who you are. That's what Kate loves about you. You can't be afraid to speak your mind, it's kinda your thing."

"Maybe." She looked annoyed. "Maybe I don't want to be known for that anymore."

"We don't care about you because you have a temper. We care because you're passionate. Because _you_ care too much."

"Tell that to Aunt Marge."

"Oh, I plan on it."

The blonde shook her head. "I doubt you could do worse."

"I doubt I could make her day any better. So what did you say exactly?"

"Something I probably should have told her a very long time ago."

 **~One Week Ago~**

"You're pathetic."

From the head of the table, Margaret lifted her head, fury in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry. I had to stop you before you began speaking in tongues – I said 'you're pathetic'.

The woman looked eerily calm. "This is not a day where you are the judge, Miss Chase."

"I didn't ask for a _fucking_ prosecutor." She stood up in her chair. "Can't you mind you own business, for _once_ in your life?"

"I don't expect you to understand, fully, what you've done to my niece."

"What is that, exactly? Please, tell me! Corrupt her? Made her a specimen of sin? Made her too happy? Give her too much attention? Redefined her belief that there was someone for everyone? Just because I wasn't born with a _dick_ , doesn't mean I'm not allowed to share a kiss with someone I love!"

She grimaced, pulling herself away from the table. "You're disgusting. Saying such a thing in my house. There's only one thing you want from my niece, and she's been corrupted into giving it to you, hasn't she?"

"Do _NOT_ talk that way about your niece! Do not challenge something you _clearly_ don't know about! Since when have I accused you of being a crack whore, or a bottom-feeding, trash bag _slut_?"

"How _dare_ you come into my house and-!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?" If there was one thing Victoria learned while stomping her way up the food chain, it was using her body language. Step a little closer, and even if they were screaming, they'd shut their mouths pretty quick and look for an exit. Speak low, and they'd hang on to every word. "What you accused Kate of is something worth suing over in some countries. Then again, in some countries, Kate could be sold to the highest bidder. Unlike you, some people don't pick and choose the scriptures to live by. Did you want money? Is that what you want? I'm the third richest family in this state, and my best fucking friends make up the trifecta!"

She stepped closer, and the woman looked like she was going to attack, but she didn't care. Her bark alone was worse than this woman's bite. "Kate is priceless to me. And I have already promised to pay her parents off by making her as happy as I can. That's all I can do; make her happy. I am _not_ her _sin_. She is _my blessing_. And if you ever say anything different, I will descend upon you a lawsuit that would _really_ have you speaking in tongues, just to dig yourself out of the hole you buried yourself in!"

She turned her head to the side. "Babe, you okay?"

Her nose took on a reddish tinge, and usually, Victoria would have found it adorable, had the red eyes not come with it. "Victoria… you didn't – "

"Yes, I _did_ have to." She turned back to the woman, who was probably reflecting on her life choices, and looking very carefully into what her next steps might possibly be. "You were so obsessed about taking the devil out of her, that you didn't notice she was crying through half of your prayer. The only reason I'm not taking this to the press, and destroy all credibility and respect anyone might have for you, is because she doesn't want me to. Everything I do, I do for her, or with her in mind."

Her knuckles, pale as a sheet of paper, regained its color when a warm hand slid against hers.

Kate sniffled, looking directly at her aunt as she held onto her paramour's hand with both of her own. "I'm sure Uncle Ben has plenty of stories to tell on why he almost left you. I can't picture my life without Victoria in it. You seem to have a lot of ways to experiment on that possibility, all while being married to him. _You_ don't judge me. You have no authority over me."

She hesitated, for the smallest of seconds, before she squeezed her best friend's hand. "You accused me of giving Victoria what she wants. All she wants is my love. And I have given her so much more." She felt a brief pang of satisfaction from her aunt's look of frightened recognition. " _Everything_. And I'm not apologizing for that. I have no reason to. As of last week, we're engaged. We didn't wear our rings here out of respect for _you_ , at her request. So get used to us. Or stay out of my life."

She dragged her fiancée along, who was more than happy to follow, to the front door. Before stepping out, she turned back around, seeing her aunt lingering in the hallway, unsure. "I love you, auntie. But if you can't accept me, as who I am – a girl who's happy, and loved, and _grateful_ for my blessings – then I can't accept you for what you are – a message of what happens when even _faith_ is corrupted."

Kate, almost unwillingly, let go of her betrothed's hands and slowly walked over to her aunt, who made no signs of moving. She honestly didn't know if she was considering her future with her niece, or if she was… saying goodbye for the final time.

Still, she hugged her aunt. "I will pray for you, auntie. And I hope we can talk again. Whether you show up at our wedding is up to you and God. Just… call me, okay?"

It took a few moments, but she felt relieved to feel arms wrap back around her. "Of course I will, dear. Just, please, pray for me. I support you. And while I can't agree with it, I will always support you. If she makes you happy, then… well, your father supports it. So damnation to us all, I suppose. Just don't make the mistakes I made."

"Thank you, auntie. Thank you." She sniffled again, releasing her aunt, the two shared genuine smiles for the first time in years.

They gathered in a final, shorter hug, before Kate joined Victoria, and the couple left the house, but not before both waved at the aunt, who stood at the front porch, watching them with curious eyes.

"I think that went well."

Victoria snorted, turning onto the expressway. "Sure. Well. I guess that counts as working in mysterious ways."

"I love you, Tori."

"Still? After that display? I practically threatened to destroy her life."

"And that's what she needed, to hear me out. I've had so much to say to her, but she couldn't hear it. A threat was what she needed in order to hear someone else's opinions. She didn't listen to Uncle Ben until he threatened divorce. Thank you."

"Anytime. I guess."

They would have ridden home in silence, just taking in the comfort of the other's presence, until Kate giggled. "You're really not gonna ask about it, are you?"

"What? The 'I gave her everything' line? The look on her face was priceless."

"It was, wasn't it? But… I wish it were true."

"Not me. I don't want you to regret anything, Kate."

"I'm marrying you, Victoria. And we've talked many, many times about what that entails. It's the point for no return in my family. Until death do us part; _literally_. I won't regret a moment I spend with you for as long as I live, and we both know it. If I can't see any faults in us twenty years down the line, then I sure as hell won't regret it now."

It took a moment to refocus the car. "Kate!"

"What we do are for our eyes only. And I'm spending the rest of my life with you. I just, for one night, want to be… _sinful_."

Victoria nodded shakily. They were both the blushing virgins, but she didn't expect to be the one blushing harder.

"I'm putty in your hands, Victoria." She smiled wickedly, something she didn't think she was capable of, but definitely wouldn't mind seeing again. "Teach me… _everything_."

 **~Present Day~**

She coughed awkwardly. "So, um… yeah. Max, we're actually getting married, and it might – keyword, might – go off without a hitch.. I mean, you already knew that; I'm sure Kate's told you every sordid detail. Maybe we will get that happy ending… _wow_."

"Nice deflection. Kate told me about the engagement, by accident. And if I wanted to know 'every sordid detail,' I would have asked you. You'd be more descriptive." She loved seeing the girl practically glow red. "But I'm glad that my two best friends found each other."

"It's… it's almost clinically insane. We're only six months out of Blackwell, and I feel like we're, maybe, going too fast?"

"Maybe. But you two will feel the same ten years from now. Take every moment you can together. If I could've changed anything with my relationship with Chloe, we would've gotten married at eight."

"Oh, that would've been the cutest little wedding photo. I'd be really looking forward to the dance."

"You laugh now, until the brides have the first dance. We were playing anything but traditional music on the cliff side. Good luck trying to convince her otherwise."

"Huh. Didn't think about that. Although, you just gave me a cool idea."

"I'm not playing at your wedding. I doubt Kate's gonna let any photographers in, so I'm gonna be all over that."

"Oh, fair enough." She smirked. "Y'know, Chasefield probably would've been a pretty hellish team."

Max tilted her head to the side. "Maybe." They seemed to be going pretty strong in the other timeline, but she never had the chance to confirm it. She wasn't overly curious about that could-have-been, but it definitely seemed like a possibility, if this is where they are today. "How do you think Marshfield would have fared?"

"Honestly? That would have been pretty freaking cute."

"She said that, too. But I like going to R-rated movies with my wife. Maybe in another life."

"Maybe. But I think I'll keep Kate all to myself in this one."

"I don't think Chloe would mind that." She stopped in front of a covered portrait, next a very familiar photo – Her very first kiss with Chloe, in the photo booth at an amusement park with her parents seven years ago, above the photo of Chloe kissing her back. They had completely missed it, both skipping off to another event, but her mother had taken the strip with her. It had been one of the most thoughtful wedding gifts ever. Together, she and Chloe rebuilt the image from the ground up on a grander scale, and the two small stamp-sized pictures were now fully-blown portraits. It was pretty much the only real move she ever made on Chloe.

"My parents own a gallery, you know." Victoria's tearful voice cut through Max's reminiscence; she didn't know when the blonde started crying. "I had some really big shoes to fill. I wanted to _so badly_ be in one of their galleries."

"They ordered a few of your prints off our website," she admitted, watching her friend's grateful tears. "They come to _you_ for their art, Victoria. _You're_ the standard-setter, now. You've filled those shoes."

She crossed her arms, smiling at her friend and business partner. "It feels _really_ good to be a part of the Pricefield Brand."

"As it should." She held out her hand, and Victoria's smile was genuinely bright and full of hope – a sight once impossible, now common and so very welcome. They shook on the deal.

"Now, for your first task – pull apart the curtain. Just to know how it feels to open up an exhibit in your own gallery. I imagine your parents have always wanted you to earn this moment. Now it's yours."

With trembling fingers, Victoria reached for the velvet drapes, and slowly pushed the curtain aside. She gasped.

It was the road trip to Portland, then Seattle – the first one their group shared on Max's eighteenth birthday – in Chloe's cramped red truck. Since, their circle had gone for limos and SUVs for their long-distance travels, but the first one was, by far, the most intimate; they had to double up on the ride.

One of those times, and Victoria had to admit that it was an extended one time, she had sat in the lap of Kate Marsh for much of the trip. It was so innocent at the time – Kate's arm curled around her waist, her own arm around the cornflower-blonde's head, the two holding up the peace sign as they posed for Max's camera.

"Oh, Max," Victoria gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as she took a step back – the giant framing taking over her field of vision, "It's beautiful."

"Chloe and I were figuring what to actually put in the 'Priceless' section. The day we were in the amusement park – when we saw something more in each other – had to be the first, and our photo wall picture became more popular than we expected. The Blackwell Academy graduating class photo, Nathan's picture of our circle of friends, Hayden's picture of the Gallery opening. All priceless. The only thing missing is your future wedding photo. Well, that, and this."

When Victoria hugged her, the tears ruining her own cashmere without a care in the world, Maxine decided that she had made, yet again, the right choice in having her as a friend.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Wasn't looking forward to Kate's Family issue, considering her orientation in my story, but it had to be done, I think. It turned out better than expected, however.

Final chapter coming soon, I announced for the second time. I double-checked and put everything I needed to in this story, and then I shall be forced to return back to the Wizarding World. Arcadia Bay is so much more fun to write about, but hey, I made a promise to finish what I started.

Thanks for reading, and please review. Feedback and reinforcement really means a lot to me.


	10. Chrysalis

**Author's Note:** Before you get into this final chapter of this four-part epilogue (for some reason), I'd like to thank you for all of your support. Love you guys, each and every one of you, and I hope you enjoy the conclusion to my tale.

 **Special Dedications:** **Stelosnarcos** , who specifically commissioned the epilogue and forced this out of my head months sooner than it was going to be (and probably made the story better that way), **Alexander Simpson** , and **AtomicStryker**. Thank you for being Patrons.

Also, dedications to _Aaron Leach, GrumpyCat42, Rinso, Yuno is Life, bella6547866699,_ and _Ann E. Casap_ , for being my most consistent reviewers. I value reviews very much, and that number under the story means a lot to me, and next to patrons, it's the best thing you can do to support me. It's also the most free thing you can do.

Please enjoy the final episode of One More Time, **celebrating over 10,000 views**. I hope I gave the series justice, and the ending Max and Chloe deserved.

* * *

 **Chrysalis**

"Where is me crew? Tell me, girl, what have you done with me blasted crew?"

"I'm sorry to bear the bad news, _captain_ , but the crew had the sudden urge to walk the plank."

She let out an exaggerated scream, and the audience laughed. "You dare to commit mutiny on my ship? You want to embarrass me? To start a war with the notorious _Bluebeard_?"

In her dirty rags and wrapping, she managed to produce a cutlass. "I guess I do."

And then the scene froze.

Off to the side, Kate held up two small colored signs to the children. "Okay, kids. What do you think happened next? Do you think they fought each other bravely on the crashed ship, or do you think Cadet Max tried to outsmart the _nasty_ old Captain Bluebeard?"

 _"ARGH!"_ the children replied instinctively at the name, before the majority began to yell for the swordfight. Still, Kate held up the sign for the first option, a picture of two swords clashing, and after seeing the hands raised, held up the sign that showed her illustration of Max leapfrogging over 'Bluebeard'.

"Oh, wow. You guys are pretty _clever_." In her opinion, the password that told them what to do next, 'clever', was just as clever. "Well, as you're about to see, you chose the right one."

Bluebeard unsheathed her own sword, a thinner blade, and pointed it at Max. "Don't underestimate me, missy. Prepare to join me comrades in Davy Jones's locker!"

She ran forward, and Max silently counted down until she stabbed into a large crack in the platform. Under the tall stage, Victoria, on cue, let go of the spring-loaded board, and it popped up, hitting the tip of the beard directly, but Chloe sold the near miss well, jumping up and falling back on the foam bedding. Max ran forward, and as Bluebeard rose to her hands and knees, quickly used her hands to pounce over her adversary, indeed like a frog would. " _Argh!_ " she growled, and the kids followed suit. "Get back here, or I'll make you pay!"

"What are you gonna do?" she teased, her hand grabbing the flag pole to spin back in the captain's direction, leaning off it. "Send your friends after me? It's just you and me, Captain. And, by the way – blue is totally not a good color on you."

She growled. "You take that back, traitor!"

Max hopped off the beam and spread out her arms. "Come at me, Cap'n!"

With another war cry, ( _Argh!_ ) she charged again.

The set that they had put together was something all four of them were proud of – It was a giant ship, really, built around Arcadia's lighthouse, posed as a shipwreck. On the outside, it was elaborately done, but it was very basic on the inside. Nothing really extravagant except for the spiral staircase that took the guests to the top of the scaled down ship.

Still, Max and Chloe had a lot to explore on the boat, using their cardio to leap and hang off the edge.

It was in the script for Chloe to dangle off the back, and Max sat on her haunches, her chin resting against her fist. "I'm waiting for the part where you 'make me pay', Captain."

"I'll have your head for this, Max!"

"If the crocodile doesn't have yours, first."

"W-what? You can't be serious! You're a good guy! You can't let me drop!"

"As a captain, it would be very disgraceful if you couldn't beat a crocodile."

"Of course I can beat him, that's not the point! You let me up here right now!"

Through the hidden speakers in the ship, a menacing growl was echoed through the clearing, and Bluebeard yipped and lifted her legs. "Please…"

"Well…"

"Okay, kids? What happened next? Does Max drop the nasty Captain down into the crocodile pit, or does she save him from his fall?"

This one was a tougher choice than the rest, and Kate could tell. "Some of you didn't raise your hands."

"He's bad!" a kid yelled.

"But she'd be just as bad letting him fall!" a girl yelled back.

"He was gonna make her walk the plank anyway!"

"He said _please_!"

Honestly, Kate could have done without the yelling, but she loved the participation in it all. "Calm down. You're both right. For the people that didn't vote – what would you have done?"

The children were all talking at once, And Max, laying on the edge of the platform, her head resting on her arms and her legs frozen in mid-kick, chuckled discreetly. "This is always the hardest choice," she whispered.

Chloe sighed, hanging off the edge below her wife, her Velcro gloves and pirate pants easily keeping her up and frozen in place. She turned her head slightly, keeping her mouth away from the audience, who were clearly distracted at this point. "It even manages to get the parents riled up."

Max, her smile hidden by her reddish brown hair, licked her lips. "Being pirates can still entertain us. We're adults, right?"

"Do you realize how many 'booty' jokes we put into the script?"

"They're only going to hear half of them."

"But you have to live with making all of them. You burden yourself so unnecessarily with your life decisions, sometimes."

"Topical."

"But wise."

"Must be the beard."

"Maybe." She wiggled her nose. "Oh, shit."

Max peeked over to the audience, very aware that Chloe couldn't see them due to the eye patch. "Wow. They're still going."

"Oh, this is killing me," she muttered, rubbing her nose across the Velcro patch in front of her; unfortunately, it was the soft side of the fabric, which only made the itch worse. "These clothes are not made to scratch noses. _Help meee_ …"

"Oh, come on, it's our _last show_! Toughen up for the kids!"

"Gah… it burns… it feels like fire ants fucking _riiiight_ under the skin."

Max managed a smile, and surreptitiously moved her left arm, the one away from the small group. Chloe stealthily moved her head to the side, and nuzzled her nose into the Velcro glove, purring towards the end. "You're just a living emoji at this point."

"Ah, that hits the spot." She breathed deeply, and rested her cheek against the lingering hand. "My hero."

"Not for long. Looks like I have to drop you."

"Really? This is the third time today. I'm getting too old for this shit."

"I saved you six times today. So, progress, at least."

"Yeah. They're getting less bloodthirsty." She scrunched her eyebrows together. "I just thought of a totally inappropriate joke."

"You _know_ I'm too curious to let that go."

"Do you think you could yell 'Long live the king' before I drop?"

"You sure you don't want to go with 'I killed Mufasa?'"

"That hits a bit close to home. I didn't want to bring up bad memories."

"William is alive. This reality is the only one that matters."

"I'm glad." She could hear the sincerity in her tone. It came as a genuine relief to her.

Max smiled softly, stroking her wife's cheek. "Kate would _so_ hate us if we changed her story like that."

"Because dropping me to the crocs is kid-friendly."

"Risqué. But you still escape. Get ready."

"The fearless Cadet Max, with a heart of gold, knew that she could only do one thing in this situation." Kate beamed at the audience – a smile reserved for the group of kids that voted for her favorite choice. "She knew she couldn't leave the ruthless captain's fate to his doom."

The two took the surprising change in stride, Max using her visible arm to reach down and grabbing Bluebeard's. With heavy exaggeration, Max overacting for the sake of Chloe's ego, she got to her feet and slowly began to pull up her arch enemy.

Victoria, still under the deck and out of view, cranked the lever back and forth, causing the entire ship to rock. The speakers began to boom, the signs of a thunderous storm approaching.

The two lead characters of the story lost their grip, and fell off the deck and out of view.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd, and Kate turned away from the audience to stifle her giggles. "Oh my," she muttered, staying in character. "This is unexpected."

The two recovered quickly from the trampoline. "Well, that's act one." Chloe sat down, and Max joined her at her side. "Last time we get to do this, babe. How you feelin'?"

"Relieved. Haley and Jeffrey will do a good job. We're leaving this little stage and show in good hands."

Chloe sighed, and rested her head against her shoulder. "What a year it's been, huh?"

"Hell of a year. A fun one, though."

"I can't believe we're leaving our comfort zone." While she was saddened at the prospect of leaving her home, she was still looking forward to the days ahead of them.

"We'll be back. Someday. But this is where the real adventure begins."

"It'd be nice to have that honeymoon, too."

"We went to France."

"Doesn't count. We've already been to France with mom and dad."

"You _really_ wanted to go to France again."

"True, true. I did, and I loved it, but…"

"But?"

"Well, I guess it's because we didn't leave our room much. I'm into hot monkey sex with you as much as the next girl, but it almost felt like we might as well have been at home. We both could've benefited from a longer stay there. I was thinking about a small villa in Italy, actually. We first went to Europe as best friends, then _married_ , and it's a huge difference, you know?"

"I see what you mean. So, an abstinence tour around the world, then?"

"If you mean 'abstaining from taking pictures,' then that's just as likely."

"Point taken."

"You two are children," Victoria muttered through the screen, from inside the ship. "You're up in twenty."

"Come on Vic, have more energy! It's our last show!"

They could practically _hear_ her rolling her eyes. "Being the tech takes the fun out of it. But it's gonna be a hell of a road trip. Kate's looking forward to it."

"Around the world in 80 months," Chloe grinned, stretching as she stood. "It's good to be the point-one percent."

Max jumped to her feet, possibly more excited than even Kate, going into the finale of their charity show. "The final adventures of Cadet Max; playing pirates for what might be the last time."

"It's never felt like a job," Chloe admitted, holding her hand. "It has been an honor to pillage with and against you, babe."

They shared a kiss, before the speakers played a louder, menacing growl, and Max and Bluebeard stomped towards the front of the broken ship to escape the crocodile, and work together to survive on the shore.

How well did they work together? Well, that depended on the children. The first ever live-action 'Choose Your Own Adventure' story would have a happy ending, one way or another, but as the four women had proven, it was a unique, and fun, adventure every time.

It made for a long storybook for children, but as sales had proven, it was worth it.

Max and Bluebeard learned a valuable lesson in working together, and friendship, as they had almost weekly for the past year.

At the end of the show, the girls took their bow, took photos with the children, and got one last 'ARGH!' out of the crowd, inspiring another generation of pirates. That group photo would go in the gallery, for sure.

Using her money to take a tour of the world with her best friends? Possibly, a dick move. But she felt she made up for it by all the good they had all done.

Arcadia Bay was right next to Portland as the fishing capitals of the northwest, and one of the top tourist destinations of Oregon. And yet, it managed to still be their small ocean side town.

Max, Chloe, Kate and Victoria would finally leave Arcadia Bay, as she had set out to do in the beginning of her journey. She just didn't think it would be this hard to say goodbye.

Travelling the world, exploring the exotic, was something Max had wanted to do for two lifetimes now, and Chloe was more than happy to join her. When Kate had started questioning Victoria about their own honeymoon plans, the Max and Chloe had made a radical suggestion – one that both had jumped at the opportunity of, not bearing the thought of actually being away from their best friends.

Max stood as the Maid of Honor to Kate Beverly Marsh, and Chloe stood for Victoria Maribeth Chase, in a wedding that wasn't nearly as high-profile, but easily considered as the second most important wedding she had ever attended.

Kate even broke away from her father to give her aunt a hug as she walked down the aisle. Victoria was in tears by the time her bride-to-be got to the front, and neither tried to hide their tears as Kate's father officiated.

One last portrait was added to the Priceless gallery, before the four boarded the plane, ready to explore the world, finally ready to go on that adventure they had dreamed of.

* * *

 **~October 11, 2015 Diary Entry~**

 _This could probably go without saying, but I love the fuck out of my wife._

 _Just realized I have never actually written that down before. Huh. I think I need a diary._

 _For now, I'm writing in your diary, so you're probably reading this at some point. In case you're checking your impenetrable memory, no, I didn't ask, and I hope you're okay with that. You gave me access to your most secret of diaries two and a half years ago, and I will always be grateful for what you did for me, and all of us. Always._

 _We needed this extended vacation, you and I. There was a time where we both complained that we were never alone, never by ourselves, to be ourselves, with each other. Our room, the lighthouse on the cliff side, and now, wherever we go from here on out. Kate and Victoria may be with us, but they feel pretty much the same about their own situation. It's almost downright disturbing how comfortable the four of us are under the same roof, really._

 _Only in the Art business, have we been able to have so much fun, and have so much work accomplished. Hell, at this point, we could almost make these travels a tax write-off._

 _We've never been very materialistic in life; before you pulled back the curtains of our life, the most expensive thing I've ever afforded was that ring that I cleverly hid in my half-as-expensive done up hair. That, and gas money, but let's not get all topical._

 _I sorta miss my truck. Mom and Dad can't stop talking about how smooth the ride is. No complaints from me, though. I've always wanted an expensive hobby, and you picking up classic cars is so Max. A part of me wouldn't mind collecting modern cars, but I don't think I will. I have a history, or alternate history, with cars, and I don't want to give you a heart attack. I owe you that much, given our compromise we made that first week in our Arcadia estate. I have to keep up my end of the bargain, after all._

 _I've thought a lot about that. And really, thinking about it hurt, but not nearly as much as it hurts you._

 _God, I hope no one is reading this. I need an old school fountain pen and some lemon juice. I'm sure you'd appreciate that for invisible ink._

 _You can't go back. We both know what would happen if you decide to go back. If something happens to me, this time around, it's something other than your powers, something much stronger, that just doesn't want me around. Keeping in mind that Science is something I've excelled at more than any of my other subjects (and that's saying something), Chaos Theory ran wild in my life. I can't fully explain what happened – good luck to anyone who can, I'd love to fund that research – but reality breaking aside, I seemed destined to die. You can blame yourself all you want, and I will do whatever it takes to convince you otherwise, as a loving wife should, but it's my life that's always been in jeopardy._

 _However, all we've done is make Arcadia better. Not once have we been too selfish, or destructive, or done anything to warrant the hate of God, or the Universe, or whoever it is that wanted me dead._

 _Everything is right again. I could literally bet my life on it._

 _Still, it's up to me to make sure that I don't do something stupid. (Like jinx it, so I'm scratching that statement out.) That responsibility lies on me, and me alone. Not you. You're my wife, and my hero, and my guardian angel, and my dream catcher and all that, but it ultimately lies on me that I don't die. Sorry, babe, but that's how life usually works._

 _It goes without saying that I will do whatever I can to stay by your side, and keep you by my side, for as long as you live. This time, you are my number one priority._

 _You blamed yourself so much, and I was the one who kept wading directly into the death pool. Who the fuck asks their best friend to kill them – twice? I mean, I get it, but… that's some heavy shit._

 _Not one time-skip. Not one ripped hole in the fabric of space. No dead birds. No beached whales. Plenty of fishing to go around._

 _Not even one nosebleed, except, you know, the first time I saw you naked. I was twelve at the time but yeah, I'll own up to it. You're fucking beautiful, Max. You turn me into an anime character sometimes._

 _New memories. Better memories. The only memories I'll ever know. My only wish, if I could ever have one, is that you don't have to remember the pain that brought you here. My deaths, the nightmares, the fucking psychopaths you had to deal with, all of it._

 _You've been through so much, and unsurprisingly, you have so much to show for it. You didn't get what you deserved, but you deserve every bit of what you have right now._

 _This time, I tip my grape glass to you, Maxine. Long live Max and Chloe; long live the Pricefields._

 _Fuck , my hand hurts. Have you considered putting this diary on your computer, too? Sometimes, your old school tendencies are hilarious._

 _I think I'm done, here. By the time you read this, I'll have taken you on a gondola ride down the river, playing my guitar. It's not a horse-drawn carriage, but hey, nothing is._

 _Really, any date we ever have will pale in comparison. You blew your load too early – it happens to the best of us. But I'll be damned if I don't try, Maxine Caulfield-Pricefield-Price._

 _Reiterating; I love you. In this life, and the next, we'll have each other. So let's ride this bitch we call 'life' in style, okay?_

 _And I mean that in the best way when I call life a bitch. Life is good. Strange, but really good. Thank you, for everything. Happy Anniversary, my love. May our days be filled with our dreams formed into reality, and whatever else the hell we desire. Time to live our lives, for us, and with our friends._

 _Now if you don't mind, I've spent enough time hypothetically draining your metaphorical balls, so I think I'll go directly to you and do it in the physical metaphorical sense. Such a romantic, I know. You know you love the B._

 _– Your Butterfly._

* * *

Chloe sat down the pen, and rubbed at her wrist, yawning.

Honestly, she had meant to write about the past year they had all spent abroad, but apparently she had a lot to get off her chest.

They had traveled to Australia, New Zealand (she didn't care what anyone said, she couldn't tell the difference between those two for the life of her), and Germany, as they were beginning their tour of Europe.

The reaction had elevated their business to proportions they had never even dreamed of; news that the biggest shareholders of Instagram had been travelling the world, shooting and drawing the exotic landscapes and people, and posting it on their group account, for _free_ , skyrocketed their website sales dramatically for the prints of their escapades.

They had a ways to go, travelling the world, but they showed no signs of slowing down. Kate and Victoria were practically still in their honeymoon phase, and if she were honest, so were Max and herself.

She loved her more a little bit each day, and that was just by seeing her so happy, watching her explore the sights and sounds with a childlike wonder, as she had dreamed of for two decades. And, as Max kept reminding her, it would have meant nothing if she weren't right by her side.

While Chloe and Kate took every opportunity they could to draw portraits and their surroundings, even enough to set up booths on the streets and do free artwork for the patrons who walked by, Max and Victoria made a hell of a team, always knowing when and where to find the right shot. They were of course, gracious enough to spare a fair amount of shots, in favor of their significant others to recreate the beauty, and even though Kate was more in favor of cartoons, she adapted to the realistic style very quickly. Her cartoon-style of drawing impressed a great deal as well, putting her animations adaptation side-by-side to her wife's real world capture.

While they had their fair share of fun in the cities they explored, they all explored their passions through their art, and spending time together. That was what truly made it fun.

Chloe yawned, once again, before turning away from the desk to join her wife in bed.

What she saw made her heart stop. For a long moment, it really did look like time itself had been paused.

And she had every reason to think that. Max, sitting up against the headboard in their bed, had an open book in her hand – a very familiar, very important book – while her other hand was reached out in front of her, her fingertips grasping for – _something._

She had a look of such concentration on her face, and even if time _was_ frozen, Chloe didn't need any at all to figure out what was going to happen.

Or, rather, what _should've_ happened.

"M-Max?"

She jumped, and dropped her hand to her side. " _Oh_! Chloe. You scared me."

The strawberry blonde looked at the book, and back at her wife.

Max seemed oblivious to the obvious concern. "I… I need you to tell me something. And be honest with me. Please."

Chloe, almost on the verge of tears, nodded. She _needed_ to hear this one out.

Then Max began to look scared. _Terrified_. "Did all of this really happen, in this book? Because… because I don't have a fucking clue what's going on right now. All of it… it's a blank. I woke up, and I can't remember any of it. I forgot – _everything!_ But I think I remember _having_ those memories. Am I _crazy_?"

Chloe stumbled back into the desk. " _What?_ "

"I'm not crazy, am I? This really happened? I could… I could travel through time? _Help me, Chloe_ _!"_

* * *

Ever since Max could remember, she was always in love with her best friend. That was the one constant that had never changed throughout her life.

And maybe, sometimes, she had been a bit overprotective and paranoid. Everything she had accomplished in life, she did it with Chloe in mind. And she knew the answer to why she had done it that way; because she couldn't bear the thought of Chloe dying again.

Again?

She honestly, for the life of her, couldn't remember her friend dying. But she knew it happened, _multiple times_. And she was there. She just couldn't recall it. It was more of a fact than a first-hand experience.

And that was a serious fucking problem, to see the love of your life _dying_ , but she could only recall it as well as her first steps.

Actually, she _could_ remember her first steps, now that she thought about it. Barely, anyway. She had spectacular memory.

So why the _fuck_ couldn't she remember her _best fucking friend **dying**_?

There were so many memories – or rather, unconfirmed thoughts – that sailed through her mind. So many people that deserved remembering, and cherishing: Warren, the loyal friend and science nerd; Kate, the shy recluse who was intimidated by the harshness of the world around her; Victoria, the vindictive bitch who lashed out because of her insecurities; Nathan, the psychopath in training who was used by his father and his teacher, and responded to that in the worst way possible; Mark Jefferson, the genuine psychopath who had literally no excuse for the sins he committed against her, Chloe, Kate, Victoria and everyone else.

And a blue-haired goddess, who was so pissed at her for her abandonment and betrayal, yet in a matter of four days, gained her trust, friendship and so much more, and they kicked the world's ass together, until she was forced to make the ultimate choice.

None of it was there, in her mind. None of it. Far beyond memories, or even dreams. It was just… information. The book helped her remember, but it only confirmed what she had suspected when she awoke – they were no longer her own memories.

Max looked up in relief at her best friend and partner. "So it's over? It's really over?"

Chloe sighed, a giddy smile on her face. "Yeah. It looks like it's really over."

* * *

Kate and Victoria had made it a point early in the tour to look at and visit different customs around the world when it came to her religion, and others, in an effort to expand their knowledge and understanding. Max and Chloe made it a point to go with her the next time. And the time after that.

Being hugged by Pope Francis was an experience unlike anything she had ever known before. It was something all four of them had shared.

And even then, the greatest thing that had ever happened to Chloe was still the fact that Max, retaining none of the memories of her former life, the pain and the sacrifices, still loved her as much as she ever did before.

And Max was genuinely happy with that sudden revelation. They still had the book, all of it recorded. She didn't need that mental baggage, those nightmares haunting her.

The old Chloe – Blue – was far from a figment of her imagination. She was very much real. And she would never be truly forgotten.

But Chloe – _her_ Chloe – could only remember the good times, and now, so could Max.

And what good times there would be.

* * *

 **~January 19, 2016 Diary Entry~**

 _Oh, Chloe. You can't keep me away from my writing for long. Now, more than ever, I can't forget where I came from. Talking to myself on paper? Yeah, I still do that. Some habits never go away._

 _I've actually kept a book of index cards that I've been writing on every single day since the incident. It's an addiction. I never considered being a writer, but I think I could actually put a thousand words to every picture I've taken._

 _We're in Asia, now. Tokyo, Japan, to be more specific. I wanted to try those tiny little pod hotels, but Chloe put her foot down. I wasn't serious, but she's so cute when I try to take away sex from her._

 _I want to keep this short. Chloe's really said enough for the both of us in the last entry. That took up a lot of pages. I may have to go digital. Max Pricefield, selling out? Even after everything, I don't think I did just yet._

 _'Everything.' It's hard to figure out what that entails anymore. There's a pre-era and a post-era. I don't even know what to call it. Pre-life? Post-Apocalypse? Pre-jump and post-jump? Does this – the new, powerless, practically clueless Max – count as a new era? It feels like it should be labeled as something so much more than that._

 _But at the same time, it doesn't. It's just not that important to me anymore._

 _I love Chloe. And, maybe for the first time in twelve years, I don't need to separate the two. They're the same in my mind, now. Well, same in name, at least._

 _I don't think I would've minded the taste of beer and cigarettes in her mouth, or the taste of metal embedded in her skin, or the body art, or the lack of shaving, or the bullet necklace, or even that beanie, that hid her beautiful hair. Because I associated all of it with the woman I love._

 _Even her love for Rachel Amber. I didn't mind it at all, I think._

 _Now all of that is gone._

 _Now, this Max does mind it all. That's not Chloe anymore. That never was Chloe._

 _Okay, maybe one tattoo. I have just the animal/insect in mind._

 _We're two different people, now. The blue-haired rebel and the shy little hipster are distant memories, dreams even. Perfect for each other, perfect for that era. A tragic love story; victims of destiny._

 _This story is far less dramatic. So boring, and uninspiring. So… so much better. Kate would likely agree; so would Victoria. William and Joyce would like this story better, surely. My parents, I'm not so sure, but at least they get to fulfill their dreams and do their own tour of the states. I think I'll have them visit us for a while – I'd like to spend more time with them. I've spent the first fourteen years of my life with Ryan and Vanessa, and that's it; I took four years of family time from them. I've never been to a Seattle game with my dad, my mom never took me to the Emergency Room because I swallowed my teddy's eye. Even the good memories are gone. But I've made so many more good memories here._

 _To whomever out there, watching over us now, I want to thank you. The shit that I've been through, the both of us, once upon a time, was all a setup. Now I get it._

 _A stupid lesson on love and sacrifice, I once called it, according to the book. Chloe and I would've lasted with just a truck and a dream, I'd bet my life on it, but this life was a second chance. A final chance. I kept jumping forward after a few minutes because it was all a waste of time. I just wasn't going back far enough. I got to cherish every second of this life, and it feels so organic. It feels like this reality is the only one I've ever known._

 _I never left Chloe. She never died. Her family was never broken before its time. I kissed my best friend for the first time (outside of dares, because she suspiciously did that a lot) when I was fifteen, and I told her I loved her on Prom Night, on fucking Valentine's Day, for the first time, the same night we lost our virginity to each other in and around the Blackwell Pool that I incidentally paid for (you're welcome, Otters); the same night she proposed to me._

 _I've never pitied Kate, and I've never felt intimidated, or angered, by Victoria, and I've always considered Nathan Prescott a decent person. I've always appreciated my own talent, and I never doubted myself. That's the Max that I remember, and that's the life I chose._

 _Never, once, have I idolized my best friend's killer, Mark Jefferson. He is only a stranger who died in prison years ago. And that, from a true outsider's perspective, may have been the greatest gift of forgetfulness – according to my diary, that was the nightmare fuel._

 _So in the end, I guess I really was given a choice. Sorry for yelling at you all those years ago. Whoever, or whatever you are, great ghost doe in the sky._

 _This isn't the story of Chloe and Max, Part Two. It's not even a reboot. This is the story that was always meant to be told. It's the original Director's Cut._

 _I feel like this book – this thoughtful, leather-bound wedding gift from my best friend – should have a warning in the beginning of it. 'This is a work of fiction' and 'horribly parodied characters' and 'Sorry' has to be in there, somewhere. I love my friends, and they would never speak to me again if they saw their characters. Time to get a safe deposit box._

 _And maybe, I could give Chloe the go-ahead for the alternate book release._

 _Max-era and Sam-era. Blue-era and Chloe-era. A lot of cross-over there, but doable._

 _The book next to me, beside my journal, is the story of the adventures of Sam and Blue. Their adventures began and ended in a beautiful tragedy. Shakespearean, only they were the last ones standing._

 _The continued life and tales of Max and Chloe – The Doe and the Butterfly – doesn't need to be told. And it probably never will be. But, in context, compared to all the shit I've been through – what Sam and Blue have been through – it's a hell of a story. A story about redemption, hard work, and making the best possible choices in life. Now that sounds like a lesson I can get behind. Much better than 'Be selfish and kill everyone' or 'Allow your best friend to die because fuck you, that's why.'_

 _Maybe it's unfair for me to only remember this life, and the best parts, and the choices I made, and not the fumbles and mistakes that led to them. Maybe I shouldn't go through the rest of my life missing that same sense of gratefulness, and feel more free in my decisions, not being as cautious in the consequences that could follow._

 _But Goddammit, after living three decades, and only being twenty years old, maybe I deserve to forget. And that's how life is supposed to be, right? Making choices. Lately, I've been making a lot of good decisions. I don't know what the future holds for me after that second, because making the right choice isn't necessarily getting a good outcome; I may have raised myself to do what feels right, but lately, even before the memory loss, it's consisted of rolling the dice, rather than turning the page. So many outcomes, and I'm feeling a comfort in that now. The feeling of being unsure may never go away, but I don't need time travel to know how that affects me, and everyone around me._

 _I meant what I said in the school paper, the week after our engagement; making all the right choices is hard as shit. I, more than anyone else, was qualified to make that statement. Even with the cheat codes to life itself, I royally fucked up._

 _Moving to Seattle after William died was the first time I truly felt helpless. It was the first time I felt like I didn't have a choice in the matter, and truly hated myself more than even Chloe could hate me. Even without the pain of that memory to back that statement up, I could tell you that by reading the book. 'Had things gone differently…' Asked and answered, thank you._

 _My job as an advice columnist reminds me every day that the choices we make are our own, even if they affect everyone around you. Changing my answers was a choice. Helping Alyssa was a choice. Saving Chloe, and Kate, and Victoria. Going back that final time. I needed those powers – those memories – then. I don't need them now. Never have, in a sense. It was necessary for Sam to have that, for Max to live the life they both always wanted. The life everyone needed. The perfect storybook beginning, and middle. And with the help of my friends, we'll all have our perfect ending. It's possible, now._

 _But our story's far from over. Hella far._

 _Sorry. I couldn't resist._

 _Butterfly, from one romantic to another, I love the fuck out of you, too. You love that nickname so much, and I know why I gave it to you, but I have no context behind it anymore. Still, the name stays. I owe what I used to be so much more than a nickname. You know you love the D._

 _You'll always be my Butterfly, and I'll always be your Doe. I may not have first-hand experiences of the mistakes I made, to get to the sacrifices I made for our happy story, but I don't need to. What I remember, right now, is the love I've always had for you, and I can always, from this point on, say that you've done that, naturally, and no one else._

 _Wait, that made no sense. Time travel is so fucked up, so I'll try to say it in a different way, so even I can understand it. I'm not in love with what you've become; I'm in love with what you've always been._

 _Now, I see the difference. Now I completely understand why you didn't want me to start over. Not just for my sake, but for yours, too._

 _It's a dead topic, but I need the last word on this. If anything happens to you, my world shatters apart. That's why you're my 'Butterfly'. Your life and happiness are the easiest choices I've ever made. Always and Forever._

 _But we've paid our dues. We've got long, beautiful lives to live. I'd bet my life on it, too._

 _So let's live our lives. Let's cause chaos. Let's have fun. Let's do what we want. Let's be pirates. Partners in Crime and Time._

 _We may not have all the time in the world now, but we have each other for a lifetime, and that's all the time we need. Long live the Pricefields._

 _– Your Doe._

* * *

Fin.

* * *

 **Final Author's Notes:** Once I finish my Harry Potter Stories, I may find myself branching out. Maybe not completely phasing out everyone's favorite wizard, but I would love to find out what I could do in other fandoms. Eight years in one fandom tends to burn you out. I may return to Life is Strange, or, more suspiciously, the sequel that has been confirmed, because I'd definitely be picking that up. I'll need your support to do that, whether it be through or reviews. I also recommend the **PDF file** I have on my website for One More Time, located in rihaansfics(dotcom) /stories. It reads like a book, and looks... fucking beautiful, If I do say so myself. Cover, original game font, some nice art. Please, check it out. If I didn't make it for paying customers, I'd be selling it.

Anywhere you can review on the multiple sites I'm on, like right here, please try to leave a comment. I'd love to hear your opinion.

I hope you enjoyed my tale, and I hope you stick around for future endeavors.

And even if I don't write another Life is Strange story, other than the occasional one-shot, please remember the moral of this epic – Long Live the Pricefields.

Stay hella strange, Shakah Bruhs and Butterflies.


	11. Obligatory Fanservice

**Author's Note:** I have now completed the loop. Happy Birthday, Max Caulfield!

Ignore the brilliant title. I'm proud of it, but we all know what it is. Well. Enjoy.

Special Thanks to Patrons: Alexander Simpson, Stelosnarcos, Matthew Morrison, AtomicStyrker, Alex Matthews, and JSLIN.

 **Part I - Twenty Years Later**

She couldn't remember the first time she had done this, but she instinctively typed 3-1-1 into the keypad. It just... seemed natural.

That's how she ended up in the diner. It was small, as it had appeared years ago, before the renovations, and empty. She didn't know the significance in that either. She made it over to a high stool at the counter to wait for Joyce, or one of her little 'siblings' that she and Chloe had tutored over the years.

Occasionally, someone walked into the diner to thank her, then promptly leave. Some looked familiar, others were complete strangers. Max only had a vague clue as to what they were thanking her for. Only Kate and Victoria hugged her, with tears in their eyes.

Joyce and William, the world's greatest In-laws, stood behind the counter, and she didn't really remember when they got there. She considered ordering, but ultimately decided that she wasn't hungry. Chloe had fixed up the most amazing Risotto last night and –

Oh. _Last night_. She was dreaming.

Well, that made sense. Especially when Frank came in and thanked her. She had, technically, never met him before, and he shook her hand – one of the few people to do so – before quickly leaving, wiping at his eyes. She didn't question the smartly dressed man, but she did note the lack of a neck tattoo.

Apparently, he had taken quite a different step in life. She could only speculate what that step was, but she couldn't be everywhere at once. He was out the door before she could ask, or wish him the best. Convenient.

It was an almost overwhelming sensation, person after person greeting her and showing their gratitude to her. Sitting on her high stool, she felt like a queen. When Warren approached her, she almost expected him to try to kiss the back of her hand. When he merely shook it, she stepped off the stool to give her old friend a hug.

She remembered her promise a long time ago. He never remembered that hug she gave him. She never helped him in this timeline – not that he needed it. Still, she felt that she owed him, at least that.

"Thanks for being a friend when I needed it," she whispered, leaning back to hold him at arm's length. She got a good look at him.

Even she had to admit that the beard on him was an improvement. She wasn't blind to his advances on her in the past life. Perhaps she would have responded to them one day – maybe even at the drive-in theatre she had rejected, afraid of getting into any relationship at the time.

As soon as she had decided to tie her fate to Chloe's, his chances were over. But she still hated herself for making him think he had a chance. She knew he had found happiness in Brooke in this timeline, and there were no entanglements happening this time, but... she almost missed the boy she had considered a brother.

"No problem," he smiled – a very innocent, non-assuming smile – and with confidence, he kissed her forehead. "Thanks. Stay Alpha, Max."

"You got it."

Arcadia Bay was a small town, but she could have sworn that she was thanked by the entire town's population twice over. All except for the one figure in the corner, and she had a guess as to who the hooded person could be. She didn't notice the figure leaning against the jukebox. Again, convenient.

"I'm no hero," she tried to say, only to be ignored. All the rest had ignored her physically.

"Yes. We are."

She turned in her seat – the seat closet to the jukebox – to see spots, and the people in front of her, lined in a row, were suddenly gone.

The girl lowered her camera, an old analog flash, and gave a gentle smile. She lowered her gray hoodie, and a vaguely familiar reflection stared back – someone she actually didn't expect. "We did good."

Wordlessly, she slipped off the barstool, and made her way over to her table – the closest table to the jukebox – and sat opposite the girl. "I guess we did, didn't we?"

"Better than good," she agreed, sliding the camera over to her. "Fucking Amazeballs."

That got a smile out of the older woman. "That word wasn't even cool in 2013. It wasn't even cool in 2003."

"I've never tried to be cool. I've always tried to be… me."

"And now, there are two of you." A girl with blue hair, and a dark blue beanie hopped from behind the bench, to land flawlessly into the seat next to her friend. "A fuckup in the highest degree, m'lady."

She gave her girl a playful shove. "You know you've always dreamed about it."

"Damn right I did," she growled. "Although being in mom's diner, I don't know, kinda kills my lady-boner."

Max smiled. Her wife had changed so much, but she could see some similarities. "It's good to meet you."

Chloe's playful grin settled. "Max. You've changed so much. So… different."

"And yet, still the same," her younger hipster self admitted. "It's been a hell of a ride."

"Thank you," Chloe rushed, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wildly shook her head, the bullet necklace clinking melodiously. "Fuck, Fuck! I told myself I wouldn't cry. Thank you so fucking much!"

Max smiled sadly. "You don't have to thank me. Thank the girl next to you. I don't even remember doing what I did."

"I did what I had to do," she whispered, reaching for her girlfriend's hand on the table. "What I _wanted_ to do. If anything, I should be thanking you."

"Oh, yeah," She muttered sarcastically, rubbing her thumb in the palm of her hand. "You moved away, and I became a fuckin' stereotype drama queen bitch. I think the whole fuckin' world abandons me, and when anyone tries making their way in, I just can't let go of that past. Pissing away everything I had, dreaming about everything I lost. I'm just so fucking grateful you kept getting on my stubborn ass."

"My pleasure," she admitted, leaning into the taller girl's shoulder. Max forgot that she was so short once. "Blue."

"I'm not the best with codenames," The older Max confessed. 'Blue' snorted, wiping at her eyes.

"No shit. But it's accurate. Better than 'Butterfly', to be honest. I can't sign shit with that name."

"Always find something to complain about," 'Sam' rolled her eyes, but Max could still see her grin.

"I gotta keep you on your toes. I've got five years of abandonment issues to catch up on before I turn into your lovesick cuddle buddy."

"Oh, am I looking forward to that." She turned to Max. "We've made some improvements on the original, haven't we?"

Max tilted her head, and Blue raised her chin and stuck her chest out to model for the two. "I guess. At least the hideous beanie is gone from my Chloe."

"Let me guess: the beanie was a metaphor for how fucked up my psyche is, and I needed it to block you from my mind and emotions?"

"I thought you wore it because it was a close connection to William?"

"Oh. Well, that, too. Honestly, I've been wearing this so long, I forgot. Mostly, I just use it to avoid dyeing my hair for a few days longer."

Sam deftly flicked off the cotton cap. "So you're not more damaged than I suspected?"

"Oh, I'm damaged, but it has nothing to do with this old thing. Just don't ask about the bullets around my neck."

Sam blinked, and turned to her with a genuine, worried curiosity.

"It was an _art project_ , don't worry. They're sniper's bullets, you _know_ I couldn't have fired them. I had hookups, but not that kind. Dad served; these are the bullets that were in the flag they handed mom at the cemetery."

"Oh."

Max leaned back. "You have no idea how long it took for me to figure that out; almost two lifetimes. I didn't even know Bill served – he never mentioned it before. Chloe mentioned it in passing."

Blue squeezed her girlfriend's hand. "I'd love to meet Chloe 2.0. She sounds awesome. And non-damaged."

The doors swung open behind them. "Oh, boy. You're not damaged. You're just unlucky as all hell."

Max quickly scooted over to give her wife space, smiling at the new edition to her dream, but Chloe would have none of it, turning her back to her and launching herself backwards into her wife's lap. "Hey, lover," she whispered, wrapping an arm around Max's neck. "Hey, hero," she turned to the full brunette. "Wow. You were a little waif of a girl, once. I don't remember you ever looking like her."

Sam smirked. "She made better life choices."

Blue leaned into Sam's shoulder. "Looks like we both made some serious fuckin' moves, too. Maybe you should get some red streaks in your hair, Sam."

"I did."

"I didn't – you – you know what I mean."

"Of course I do. I just wanted to fuck with ya."

"You get to fuck me and fuck _with_ me? We can't have it both ways, sista."

Sam made a face. "We need to get 'sista' out of your language. I can take 'hella', but that word needs to go."

"Just wanted to fuck with ya."

Max shook her head, wrapping her arms around her wife. "I can't believe we were ever like this."

"I never thought our lives could be like this."

"I did."

Her wife chuckled. "You know a lot of things."

"I used to know everything. Now… I'm glad I don't."

"I'm glad, too."

The two girls went still in front of them, frozen in time, their smiles bright, their hands held tightly, permanently.

It was strange, for the both of them, looking into another life, in another time. Sam and Blue – the original Max and Chloe – finally looked as happy as they should have always been. It was what she had always wanted, and while she had gotten a different version of their happiness, she could still appreciate the vision before her.

Her book, released years ago, had a controversial ending – several, actually. Sam and Blue had driven off into the sunset after the storm, based on the true story. The alternate ending had Sam going back to the original scene of the crime, and letting things 'play out'. Fuck, was that one sad to write.

The second alternate ending had Max travel back, only to take the bullet herself from Nate – well, _Matt_ , in her book. What saddened the both of them was that both would have been viable conclusions, as they would have ended the loop.

She considered writing an ending that had Sam using an old picture of her in Seattle and work from there, but it still wouldn't make sense, considering the flash-forwards of about five minutes, and it would just be another loop. She was sure it wouldn't have worked in real life, anyway. She was meant to use that storyboard to end it all, she knew.

And she needed a definitive ending. So, it was all sad endings, regrettably. What she had done, was the only thing that made sense, and she couldn't exactly make that public knowledge.

Thank God that was fiction. This was the ending she had wanted. It had taken far too fucking long, in her opinion, but it was finally here.

She had often told herself that they were different, now. Separate eras of two couples, a tragic pair versus what they had always wanted to be, but never got the chance to become. Max and Chloe got their happy ending. Sam and Blue never got theirs.

But really, right now, it seemed an awful lot like they did. Maybe, in some other land or time, they were living in happiness, perpetually. Maybe there was an Arcadia Bay made just for those two to go to, imagined by Max, and she got to visit it in her dream for one night only, and Sam didn't have to go through all this _shit_ , and the two weird girls, for all their flaws and irregularities, got to live happily ever after.

A longshot, of course. But stranger things have happened.

If only she had a –

She looked down at the table, to see her old analog. "Oh."

With some light maneuvering around Chloe, she picked up the camera and aimed her viewfinder at the couple, their beaming faces sending a tingle up her spine, their eyes locked on each other.

The camera flashed.

* * *

The spots faded, and she found herself in her bed.

"Max? Sweetie?"

She blinked rapidly, her fingers ghosting over a camera that wasn't there. "Hmm?"

"Did you… did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"….No reason. You were just fidgeting, is all."

"No, not fidgeting. Just thinking. Tomorrow's a big day."

"Heh." She yawned. "You… you said that when we went on our first date."

"The night you proposed to me."

"Our friends always said we moved too fast."

"Statistically speaking, they were right." She moved over to lay her head on her wife's chest, and rested her hand on her stomach. "We've never claimed to be normal."

"Ninety-five percent of statistics are bullshit, anyway." She wrapped her arm around her bare shoulders. "You know I love you."

"I love you, too. Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. I just felt like saying it. Just needed to."

"I get it. You're not feeling insecure or anything right now, are you?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Just… I don't want to get up. Lying here, growing old together; it's not a realistic plan, but it's my dream."

"You don't think we're old enough?"

"Oh, hush. I'm reaching a milestone tomorrow. You get to yuck it up for another six months before the arthritis kicks in."

"Don't joke like that!" she slapped her thigh playfully. "Just for that, we're getting another mile in on our morning jog!"

"On my birthday? That's just cruel and unusual. There are more fun ways to punish me, you know."

"The jogging is your morning punishment. Gotta wait until we're back in this bed."

"Kind of a moot point if we never leave the bed."

She rolled her eyes. "For how old you claim to be, you've still got the virility of a teenager."

"You keep me youthful, baby."

"…Oh my God! That was so adorably _sappy_! That's _my_ job!"

"Hey, I can't help it! With age comes wisdom! Maybe I'm finally catching up to you!"

Max scoffed. "Yeah, sure. I'm wise. Just because I'm good with advice, doesn't make me Confucius."

"Well, you are, technically, seven years older than me."

"Great time to bring that up," she rolled her eyes, sighing against her partner's neck. "Like I could say anything to those people."

"…What people?"

Max blinked. "Oops."

"Max? What did you dream about?"

"I can't believe after all those years of hiding the biggest secret in the world from you, I can't keep a fucking _dream_ secret for twenty minutes."

"As it should be. Spill it, Max." She sounded patient – overtly so. She liked that.

"I had a dream – about them."

"Are you... are you starting to remember?"

"God, no. I couldn't even tell you anything about the memories of the girl across from me, and she _is_ me. No, this was something weird."

"This may sound incredibly fucked, but, did you dream about the diner? Before the renovations, I mean?"

Max and Chloe, in the darkness of the night, gripped tightly at each other.

"Fuck."

"We don't know if it means anything, Chloe." She didn't have anxiety, but she was sure her wife could hear her shortness of breath. "I mean; weird shit happens to us. That's just a fact of life."

"Wasn't that the fucking problem to begin with? Weird shit doesn't happen to us! It _used_ to happen to us, and we don't remember it! If it starts up again, isn't that _bad_?"

"Maybe," she begrudgingly admitted. "It seems very similar to the nightmare sequence I had in my book. But this wasn't a nightmare. Maybe it's supposed to be... closure?"

"Hell of a time to give us that closure. The fates that be took their precious time. We didn't ask for closure. We asked for _peace_."

"...It felt good to see them."

"It did. I won't lie. It did. But a Goddamn warning would've been nice."

Max's grip was tense, but a few calm back rubs calmed her down. "Do you wanna talk about it, babe?"

She sighed tiredly. "You don't wanna just meet back up in the dream diner?"

"Honestly, I don't think I can sleep right now."

"I hear you." She kissed her dear wife's forehead. "But talking about this shit makes it more... real, you know? I almost feel like this, us, talking about a dream we shared together, is a dream we both need to wake up from."

"We might be having this same conversation. Trust me when I say that I know a thing or two about paradoxes, and you don't want to go down that rabbit hole."

"So, what happens now? That dream, it was a good omen, right? I mean, people were thanking you, and we finally got to see the people we once were. It could've gone worse."

"We'll chalk it up as a really good dream. A vision, maybe?"

Chloe sighed listlessly. "Hell of a way to start a birthday."

"A very peculiar morning for that to happen, as well. What if it wasn't fate that sent that message to us?"

"Who do you think it could've been?" She chuckled weakly. "The Originals? You think those two still exist out there? In another timeline?"

Max didn't reply, lingering on the thought.

Her knowledge of Time Travel, from what she had read in the week that changed _everything_ so many years ago, never really left her mind. Everything was still there, it was just classified as cold, hard facts, more than direct memories and first-person experiences. She remembered two girls walking along the rails in the Junkyard, rather than looking down her arm, smiling at their conjoined hands as they balanced each other.

"Time travel is so fucked up," Max whispered, linking her fingers around Chloe's torso.

She may not have directly remembered the sacrifices she made, or she couldn't remember the impact of each choice, but she could recall the ordeal she went through. She went through hell, and back, and she didn't regret a second of it.

If, by some fucking miracle that would leave Doc Brown with a brain fart, her 18-year-old self and Chloe's 19-year old self had lived on in an Arcadia that was never destroyed, or maybe even a place where William never died, or Rachel, or the crimes were never committed in the first place, or...

No. Probably not. But it was nice to dream about it. Which is what she apparently just did.

"This. Us. It never would've happened if it weren't for time travel." A hand played with her hair, stroking it. It comforted her. "I'll always be grateful for that. I don't know who decided to fuck me over in the first place, but I hope it's not the same God that gave you your powers, because I'm so fucking grateful for that, and for _you_."

Max sniffed. "Happy birthday, Chloe."

Dream, or vision, or whatever it was, she still had Chloe, and they were happy. She couldn't say the same the last time she had a vision like that.

Time Travel was indeed a paradox in itself, but the question that had lingered since the beginning of the concept itself could never be answered; Should it exist?

No. Yes. Both. Neither. As she had discovered on their second anniversary, she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't redo her mistakes or decisions. It didn't really worry her. She didn't have that paranoia anymore – benefits of having memories taken away – and she didn't miss it.

Maxine the Time Goddess. That had a damn good ring to it, but she'd pass on that any day.

Unless, of course, something happened to Chloe. She'd admitted to her wife quite a while ago, after she lost those powers, that she ultimately would have used those powers again if something like _that_ happened.

 _"Well, it's a damn good thing you don't have those powers, then."_

So fucking selfless. She loved and hated that.

Maybe the vision was a guarantee? A paranormally signed decree that everything was finally right in the world, as it should have been?

She wondered what changed, now of all times?

* * *

"Max? Maxy... wakey, wakey... I want my breakfast in bed."

She blinked herself awake. She must have fallen asleep thinking. "Sorry. Rough night."

"Of course. That's why I let you sleep until noon."

She sat up in the bed, staring at her wife curiously as she moved a tray into her lap. "What's this?"

"Birthday present to myself." She slipped into bed next to her, mirroring her wife. "Breakfast in bed for the both of us."

"Are you making up for the fact that you let me oversleep our morning run?"

She waved it off, handing her a fork and butter knife. "Eh, we'll jog twice as far, tomorrow. This is for me. After that shit, we needed this."

"Hold on, let me take a picture of this meal before we dig in." Chloe gave her a blank stare. "Kidding, babe. It was only a phase."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm watching you, Pricefield."

* * *

It had been a decade, when they returned to Arcadia Bay. There had been periodic visits, for the sakes of their regular friends, their parents, and their museum, but when they felt ready, they set off to travel the world again.

The globe, sans Antarctica and the less tolerant areas, became victim to their travels, and the couple made sure to canvas it all. Every destination spot, every culture, every different way of life, they wanted to see, document, draw, and photograph views that had rarely been seen before. They even received offers for protection, so the two could capture their lovely, albeit repressed, home cities. Legal troubles kept them from visiting those places, however, but laws were steadily changing around the world.

Sometimes, they had company. Kate and Victoria had joined them most times, keeping them from being isolated in their epic road trip. Former Blackwell and Arcadia High classmates accompanied them in their journey; Courtney, Dana, Taylor, Stella, their current partners, and their parents had all taken an invite to join them. Of course, they weren't as close to their guests as they were to Kate and Victoria, but it didn't hinder the fun they had. Max even got a few friends to appreciate film cameras a little bit more.

She even used digital cameras a few times. The first time she saw it, Chloe claimed that the world would never be the same again.

In another time, Max would have told her not to jinx it. Instead, she hooked an arm around her wife and took a selfie. It was the first picture she ever got out of her computer's printer. Of course, she framed the original, and they took copies wherever they went, on every hotel nightstand, and every timeshare. She'd seen their autographed copies online for _insane_ amounts of money. It was flattering.

"Do you ever think we're too rich?" Chloe wondered once.

" _What_? I can't hear you! The motor on this yacht is just too damn loud!"

Her wife laughed, stretching back into the sunchair. " _Fair point!_ "

Through all the charities she participated in, and the donations she had made over the years, she felt she could justify splurging once in a while.

William certainly loved the boat. So much so, that he wasn't disappointed on Father's Day.

Again, Max felt like her old self wouldn't have bought William a boat, always calculating what could go wrong.

She needed to be free from those shackles. She was thankful to forget.

She was enjoying life. Enjoying Arcadia. Enjoying the world.

Really, she did feel like she had all the time in the world, and the strange vision Chloe and she had only seemed to cement it.

But... what if she never made the choice to leave her original Chloe behind?

It's something she didn't have to dwell on - considering she didn't remember at all - but that never took away her innate curiosity.

It's what made her Maxine Pricefield. That, she knew, would never change.

* * *

 **Part II - Twenty Seconds Later**

"Weird shit happens to us all the time. We should really be used to it by now."

Max nodded. "Yeah. You're right, of course." She ran a hand through her brunette locks. "It's fucking weird though, right? I get to finally see what we've become. The choices I made to get us there, Chloe… I haven't cried that way in a long time."

She shrugged, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Come on. Get in next to momma."

Max smiled that goofy smile, that still made her stomach flip, and slid in next to her lover. "You seem calm. Don't tell me you're used to this shit, Chlo."

"Of course not. I'm the emotionally unstable one. You wear your emotions on your sleeve. Sometimes, I wish I could do that. Makes me feel a little more human."

"You're showing your emotions, now."

"I'm working on it. For you. Because that shit needs to go two ways, right?"

"No pressure. We go at our own pace. Our own rules."

"Our own time."

"That's what I'm counting on."

They lay together, enjoying each other's company, reflecting on the past, wondering about their future.

The past was worrying enough as it was.

* * *

The last thing they remembered was Max staring with blurred eyes at their dream board, while Chloe sat in the hallway outside her room, hugging her knees.

There were a few terrible, painful moments of silence. Then a loud – break? – crack? And then a stomp.

The second round of silence was just as painful, and just as deafening in her ears.

She felt something beside her. She looked up from between her knees, and looked over.

Max reached around her, and intertwined their fingers. "No," she whispered, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "We really do have all the time in the world. I want to spend that time with you."

Chloe wiped at her eyes. "Max, we don't know what might happen between now and then. You need to do this."

"I don't need to do a Goddamn thing!" Her outburst was accented by a tight squeeze. "I am Max _fucking_ Caulfield, Time Lord! I make the decisions! I decide my fate! And if I want to spend the rest of my _life_ , here, with _you_ , then I can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't!"

She raised both their intertwined knuckles, and kissed them staring directly into their eyes. "Destiny. It was supposed to be good to us, when we met. It's fucked us over too many times already. I won't let it happen again. I don't even know what might happen next time, but things have a funny way of fucking up for me. I don't want to live the rest of my life watching my back, or yours, and you'd barely know who I am! This is the final choice I'll make. And maybe I'm making the wrong one. But I just can't… I can't stand the thought that I'll have to start all over again to earn what we have right now, and I really don't think I can make everything right again. I don't want to go back. I want to stay. So that's what's happening. If you have a problem with that, then that's just too fucking bad. But I will _not_ abandon you again, Chloe. _Never again_."

Without warning, she leaned over and kissed her. And perhaps, Chloe rationed, she didn't have a problem with that.

Max made a different decision. Instead of going ten years back, she decided to stay, and live out this life with her best friend. Five thousand dollars and a truck, and a gun, and their dreams.

They had the rest of their lives to feel sorry. But it wouldn't be apart.

That was yesterday. Yesterday according to them, anyway.

That night, they dreamed. They thought they would have the usual nightmares. They were at the Two Whales' Diner, the diner that was destroyed, so they had a pretty clear vision of what they thought they were going to see next, and they were going to be in the eye of the storm. Instead, they saw a _beautiful_ woman sitting at the bar, being thanked, repeatedly, by what looked like the whole town.

Max began to _know_ things. With each time a town member spoke, her active imagination began to unravel each story~~~

Kate had met her in high school; she was a sophomore at the time, and the timid blonde a mere freshman. They had befriended immediately, Max not even needing her past experiences to endear herself to the girl.

Sans William and Joyce, Kate was the only person Max had ever vented to about her feelings for Chloe before their relationship began. That conversation wasn't staged – she was genuinely frustrated in how long she had to wait before Chloe was ready to respond to her advances. Legitimately, Kate comforted her on her woes.

Victoria didn't expect to make friends. She had money to do that for her, and her talent spoke for itself. That all changed when Max approached her, someone she couldn't compare to in either category and rather than make her a lackey, which she would have seriously considered had the offer arose, she instead wanted a friend. That worked just as well.

And then, Victoria met Kate.

Never had she been so honest with herself, in front of Kate. Never had she realized how alone she really was before she was introduced into the circle of friends, but Kate showed a special interest. The Christian girl was so knowledgeable, almost always knowing the right thing to say and the right scripture to quote. That, in a sense, should have annoyed her – she never liked to be the one being taught a lesson. But the companionship shared between the two was something she cherished, and she gave as good as she got, giving some advice to her friend to help her cope with the world around them – not many were willing to accept her far too innocent nature, and she was not too forgiving of the sinfulness of over-privileged teenagers.

That's what they loved about each other. It only took a couple of pushes from Arcadia Bay's resident golden couple to become the 'platinum' couple, as Victoria liked to call themselves.

"Wow," Chloe noted, leaning against the jukebox. "Kate and Victoria, huh? I didn't see that coming."

Neither did Max. But she wasn't complaining, seeing how good a friend Victoria had become.

She also couldn't see David Madsen becoming a preacher.

"H-holy shit! Me? I helped David fucking Madsen become a fucking Rev!?"

It didn't take long to figure out that Chloe could imagine everything that Max could. They had the same memories coming to them – funnelling into them like a beer keg, drinking in the information.

She imagined Madsen, an ornery man, sitting alone at the diner, staring out the window. A girl with blue tips in her hair approached him with his meal – a simple hamburger and fries was all he could afford at the moment – before quickly dashing away from the table.

Fortunately for him, she didn't hear his comments on her choice of hairstyle.

Unfortunately, she heard him comment on her girlfriend's red streaks as she served the table next to him.

Max, unaware of the moment, had gone to the back for fresh utensils – as Chloe intended, preferring to keep this indiscretion private – before she slid into the seat across the table from him and chewed him out in the quietest of whispers.

Even she couldn't figure out how that led to the man finding peace within himself, but he came by the next week to apologize, and the week after that to just talk, and about a month later, to inform her of his move to Los Angeles. He told them of his online classes, and felt the need to be in a more populous city.

Max – the one that sat on the stool at the bar – had considered following the religious route, very seriously. She had even considered taking those same classes to officiate Kate and Victoria's wedding, as Kate had sheepishly admitted to dreaming about once.

But she couldn't agree to some conditions. She couldn't lie, and she had to accept some conditions that just weren't possible. Not with what she's seen, had been capable of, and had been through.

David, surprisingly, understood at the time, never one to judge again, and when he was done getting to know the couple, he quickly agreed to pay Chloe back by marrying her and Max.

Chloe coughed on her cigarette smoke, and Max, seeing that she was in a dream, didn't see much urgency in trying to rescue her. Still, she twisted in her bench to look at her in concern. It was a small cough, but she knew the blue haired girl was alright when she took another, giant inhale of the little death stick, before coughing again.

Apparently, that last thought was a shock to her. She almost didn't see why it would be – marrying Chloe was, at the very least, a possibility to her. She certainly didn't go through all that shit for curious experimentation. But it was nice to visualize the confirmation.

Max shook her head and looked back over to the stool, watching her older self begin to shake hands with what looked a lot like an older version of Nathan Prescott.

She didn't expect to have helped _everyone_. She half-entertained the thought of her having helped Mark Jefferson, but knew in her heart that there wasn't a chance in hell. Nate was, in the end, more of a victim than a suspect, like Harley Quinn to the Joker.

As Nathan smiled a full smile, one she hadn't seen since she tried correcting her mistakes the first time with William and entered a bizarro alternate life, she knew that the man known as Mr. Jefferson was not only stopped, but dead. She just had a feeling. She'd learned to follow her gut over the past two weeks.

Nate's mother was strict, but his sister was fair. Katherine and Kristine, respectively, took on the mantle of raising the youngest, as he was hit pretty hard with the patriarch's abandonment of the Prescott family. He had gone to public school – like Kristine had chosen to go to – and was raised as normally as possible, pointedly ignoring his father's wishes of making him understand his 'place' in the world as the top of the food chain.

When the news hit that Sean was found in Colorado in his hotel, dead of an overdose, Nathan – Nate to his friends – didn't have much of a reaction. His father was dead to him long before their discovery, and his mom and sister more than filled the void.

The Vortex Club was something he began to fund in high school, and kept alive for his own purposes – he liked parties, and he liked a fun, safe drinking environment with his friends – not like there were many other places for teen parties, anyway. And if people were going to talk about him behind his back because his father fell from grace, then he wanted to be in the know.

He was utterly perplexed at Max's lack of comfort around him. At first, he assumed that she just didn't trust men in general, but as it nagged at him more and more as they worked together for the club that she helped elevate to a new level, he realized that she was friends with _everyone_. Everyone loved her and her wife, and they returned the sentiment.

She had a room in the Prescott Dorms, he knew. And he knew that because he was living in the Pricefield Dorms at the time. But he didn't trick himself with the notion that they were on equal footing. She could have just as easily renamed Blackwell itself. His family couldn't hold a lavish reputation like that. She could. She didn't see him as an enemy. So why the cold – or, more accurate, slightly chilled – shoulder?

He felt isolated in a way. He knew he shouldn't care about this one person's distrust of her, but it got to him in a harsh way. Even her wife got along better with him, and in the corner of his eye, he always saw her distracting herself, never once looking at her own wife talking to him.

It couldn't possibly have been for jealousy reasons, either. Chloe wasn't exactly attracted to him, for obvious reasons, and despite her beauty, he wasn't attracted to her, for those exact same reasons. Chloe even gave him a 'Welcome to the Club' gift, a rainbow wristband. So, no worries there. That only left one possible reason.

He didn't want people to judge him because of his father. And this was Maxine _fucking_ Pricefield he was referring to. Her opinion was the only one that mattered in Arcadia!

He could see her reasoning, when she explained. It wasn't his father at all – it was Nate himself. Well, someone who looked like him. To hurt someone as nice as Max, they sounded like a piece of shit to him. God forbid he ever ran into the fucker.

He never got the name of the guy. Due to his connections, he felt that it would be best if he never asked. The temptation would be far too haunting, and he had already been taking medicine for certain episodes he had when he was younger.

That stray thought concerned Max. Not that he was taking medicine, but that he once had self-destructive episodes. He had wanted to hurt _himself_. Jefferson, in the previous timeline, must have seen the signs before his parents, and used it to his advantage – used the boy to hurt _other people_.

"Fuckin' asshole," Chloe muttered, and Max was almost in sync by a millisecond.

She was happy for Nathan. In a world full of victims – she, Chloe, Kate, Victoria and Rachel – she had almost forgotten that there are a lot of brands of victims that could get hurt just as much.

She didn't recognize a lot of people that came into the establishment, nor did she recognize their importance, but they looked so grateful to get a handshake from the woman. It was almost as if she had changed their lives in some meaningful way as well. As each person walked away, and each person came into the small diner, her grin wouldn't fade any less.

"There's someone missing," Chloe crossed her arms and leaned back against the jukebox. "Did she… _pass_ … again?"

Max shook her head, removing her analog from her pouch. "I've never met her. Would be hard to have her in my dream."

"Your dream? I thought it was mine?"

Max was already shaking her head. "I doubt it. This feels too real, and I'm the one with the fucked up supernatural vibes."

Chloe looked like she wanted to rebuke the statement, but she couldn't think of something to say. "I… I coughed, though," she muttered, not loud enough for her girlfriend to hear. She held a hand to her chest, still feeling the pain of the spasm.

Almost as if to prove her point, Max summoned her trusty camera into her palm and pointed it at the woman. The room suddenly emptied, and the three remained.

She took the picture. "We did good."

* * *

She and Max talked to the couple that could've been, and Chloe saw herself in the mirror, twenty years from now.

She fucking hated it.

Not the woman. Older Chloe was absolutely stunning, for someone who was now as old as her mom. She was beautiful, and confident, and radiant, and happy….

 _So_ not Chloe.

A week ago, from her perspective, she had told her best friend the most truthful thing she had ever revealed out loud, in her life – she was a mistake. A genuine and honest mistake. The Universe only needed to confirm it. She had no doubt in her mind that if Max had agreed to go back, not ten years but ten _days_ , and let Nathan shoot her like destiny had intended, everything would have gone back to normal.

Max hadn't gone back to fix the world, though that was genuinely her intention. She went back to correct a mistake. She did what Chloe thought was impossible, and _fixed_ her.

Suddenly, the older couple was gone, and the two were alone.

Chloe's smile faded, and Max squeezed her hand tighter. "Don't ever think that. Ever."

"How do you – ?"

"Maybe this _is_ your dream. I don't even know what my own thoughts are, but I know what you're thinking, and it's pissing me off."

Her head drooped low. "Sorry, Max. I'm sorry. I'm just… sorry. It's in my programming. She's so… and I'm so…"

"You're both Chloe. But she's not my Chloe. I like my Chloe just fine."

"No, you don't. Because you wouldn't have changed a thing, otherwise."

"I didn't even _choose_ to go, Chloe. That's a different Chloe _and_ a different Max, for all I'm concerned. She took a different path."

The bluenette didn't seem to be listening, so Max, frustrated, left the table.

"So much for the best part of the story," Chloe despaired, leaning her head in her hands, the cotton cap slipping off her head again. "My dream's turned into a nightmare." She chuckled dryly. "Story of my fucking life."

"So, do you see a problem with this?"

"Hm… I don't know, Max. She seems pretty damaged to me. I know I didn't make that mess better."

"Ah, girls, give her a break. She's been through a lot."

Chloe shuddered. And then she looked up.

Rachel Amber stood with her arms crossed, only a small smirk betraying her earlier statement, and whatever joke she was going to say next died in her throat. " _Fuck_ , Chloe. You really think I'd _abandon_ you?"

"That does seem to be a trend," William Price agreed, shaking his head. He moved to Max's side. "Then again, I literally _did_ walk out on her."

Chloe saw her two best friends and her father look upon her with nothing but love.

She had no fucking idea what was going on, or how any of it was happening. But now, maybe for the first time, she truly realized the love that surrounded her, up above… and on Earth.

"Thank you," she whispered, and Max simply nodded.

"I'll you leave you three alone." She began to walk towards Joyce.

"Hold it!" She quickly hopped out of the booth, and took her friend by the hand. "Rachel, this is Max. My girlfriend."

"Bout time." Of course Chloe had talked about Max non-stop to Rachel, but she wasn't expecting William to mirror the statement. "Honestly, I spoil you. I can't help but think that all of this is my fau- _oomph!_ "

She had her arms wrapped around her father so tightly, and he didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable. "Shut up," she murmured, and melted into the tangle of arms as the three joined together, quickly followed by Joyce.

Max lingered behind, crossing her arms as she stood against the booth, wishing she still had that camera.

She still had no idea what was going on or how all of this happened, but she'd happily sleep forever if this was what it was like.

Four days. It was in a span of only four days, and the week that followed was a hell of an aftermath. Technically, it started when Rachel was killed – how she was alive, and talking to Chloe, Max didn't fully understand, but she was here – and it all started unraveling from there.

It was so surreal, seeing Chloe so happy – she needed to see that. There was a chance she would have never seen that again. She remembered the speech Chloe gave her before she left her in the room with the Dream board, when she was supposed to be going back to the past just the previous day.

 _She said I was going to fall in love with a different Chloe. A better Chloe._ She tilted her head at the sight of her best friend being embraced by her family and her once departed friend – almost like a cocoon. _And maybe I'm old school. But I think I'll stick to the original. She looks pretty damn awesome to me._

"Get your skinny butt over here, hipster."

She shook her head in the negative. "I think I'll hang back. You three have a lot to talk about."

She scoffed, breaking apart from the group. "And you think you won't be brought up a thousand fucking times!"

"At least the swear jar was a good investment." William noted.

"I introduced you to Rachel, now I need to introduce her to you. God knows I told her enough about you that you've practically met."

"She's not exaggerating," the redhead deadpanned. She smirked. "Hi. I was your temporary replacement for a friend. Her lying, backstabbing, in-over-her-head friend."

It was truly amazing how one speech changed the course of time, and yet, bring around the same consequences.

In another life, Chloe had given up on Max. She had been angered when she returned – _furious,_ at Max, Rachel, and herself. Max for never keeping contact, Rachel for 'abandoning' her, and herself, for being the victim. She had to forgive Max, and eventually herself, in order to move on from her best friend's betrayal.

That all changed when Max had gone back in time to save her father, then quickly corrected everything. She thought that everything had gone back to normal. It didn't – not by a long shot.

She had _cried_. She had put her heart out for her best friend, who didn't know that she had just helped her _die_ , and was about to send her father to die just to save her. But the message was delivered in a heartfelt speech.

 _"Listen; whatever happens, I want you to be strong. Even if you feel like I wasn't there for you… because I will_ never _abandon you, Chloe."_

Max didn't think that would mean anything. When she appeared back in her normal timeline, and they were looking at the board for clues on Rachel's whereabouts, nothing had changed.

What she didn't remember was how happy Chloe was to see her the day she was almost shot. What she didn't remember was how they had quickly began reminiscing on old times, and how their lives had changed so drastically, and how happy they were to be back in each other's lives. She didn't remember how Chloe had dared Max to kiss her, and _it wasn't even a choice_ when she leaped forward and _lingered_ on her lips.

Max remembered Chloe's self-doubt throughout her adventure, blaming her and missing her father.

So when she shook Rachel Amber's hand, a new set of memories came rushing into her mind, and she was left gasping, holding onto the practical stranger.

Chloe loved Max. She knew that before the kiss, before she had even introduced her friend to her Junkyard hideout. She knew when she saw her friend's cell phone.

Five years apart, and their pirate photo was her wallpaper. three cell phone changes later, and their picture was the first thing she looked at every morning.

Chloe never gave up. She had believed her friend, and believed that Max would never abandon her. Even when she _did_.

"H-holy shit," Max murmured, stumbling in Rachel's grip.

"Max?" Chloe was already at her side, fingers on her cheek, inspecting her closely. "You okay?"

"Wow," she breathed. "Actually… I feel a lot better."

"I hope Rachel didn't cause that," she joked, a genuine smile on her lips.

"No… that was all you, Chloe. But Rachel makes a great comforter."

"I guess that's what I'm here for," the redhead admitted, patting both friends on the back. "I know I have a lot of explaining to do, Chloe, about Frank, and other things. But if we can delay that as long as possible, and just relax and catch up for a while, then I'm down with that."

"Oh no, sista." Chloe's grin took on a more sinister tone. "I'm not letting you go that easy. You're answering all my questions."

"And we're calling Frank," Max added, looking around the heavily detailed diner. She may have had good memory, but this was _ridiculous_. Maybe this was an eternal dream, or they were actually in the diner in a town that was never destroyed, given a second chance at life that she had refused to take, with people she refused to save.

Maybe this is what Heaven is like.

"We can save that for later," Joyce interrupted with a stern tone. "You've never let one of my Belgian Waffles go cold before, and I sure as heck won't let you do it now."

Max decided that ultimately, it didn't matter. Dream or not, alternate reality or not, afterlife or not.

She was very willing to see this through.

Chloe grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the booth. "God, I'm frigging starving! Unless it's not on the house. In that case, Max is starving for the both of us."

Max sighed and checked her pockets. "You know, you could always try working _here_."

"Maybe. if you join me."

"Maybe, if that whole 'photography' thing doesn't work…out…" She paused. Furrowing her brows, she wiggled her fingers in her pocket. With a frown, she pulled out a single plastic card.

Max Pricefield, the credit card read.

This was all terribly fucked up, she wasn't afraid to admit. Having William and Rachel materialize in front of her with her thoughts was bad enough, but this?

She thought she had seen stranger things. Apparently not.

She was good at adapting. It was beginning to look like The Time Goddess was becoming, simply, a Goddess.

No complaints from her. No complaints from anyone.

"To family," William announced, raising his root beer in the air.

Chloe flicked her finger against his glass to make a 'clink' sound, before digging into the plate placed in front of her. Rachel laughed. Joyce shook her head as she put down Max's plate.

The taste made her recognize that this, one hundred percent, was _not_ a dream.

"To all the time in the world."

"To making the right choices," Chloe followed up, her mouth full. "Even when the choices are shit."

"I liked my toast better," William pouted. "And I'm the only one with a glass."

"To life." The group quickly turned in their booth, and were blessed with the sight of Kate Marsh holding up her soda across from her. "And the strange things that make us who we are."

It was a toast they could all agree to.

 _End_. Well, not really. There were a _fuckton_ of questions she still had. But her waffles were getting cold, and she was very willing to solve one problem at a time.

So… the end. For now.

* * *

 _Yes, this really is the end. I've got nothing else to say about this story. Well… technically, I do. But that's a surprise. There will be no more chapters, however, and this Life is Strange Story Arc, in this Universe, Past, Present, and Future, is over._

 _Last time I updated this story, I said we were celebrating 10,000 views. And today, we will definitely reach 20,000. Thank you all for reading, and reviewing, and I appreciate your support, whether it be here, any other site I post this (like my own (new and improved) website, rihaansfics dot com) or on Patr/e/on._

 _Life is Strange, whether it becomes a movie (confirmed), or a sequel game series (rumored to be confirmed(?)); I hope I find something just as inspiring. And if it's good, I'll definitely do something with that as well. Steven Universe, a show I've binge-watched the past couple of weeks, so... there's that commission half-way done. Any more requests? Check out my profile page for more details._

 _Until then, I've got a lot of sexy criminals, geeky BDSMs, and magical harems to write about. Just as sweet, I promise. I think._

 _Please, don't be afraid to leave a comment or a review. I need to know if you liked it, or you thought it was missing something, or if you are terribly confused about me skipping back and forth through time._

 _Thanks for reading!_


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